


Sam and the Sleepy Nook

by Hyrulehearts1123, sageclover61



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comfort, Depression, Eating Disorders, Family, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Insomniac Sam Winchester, M/M, Narcolepsy, Pillow and Blanket forts- mentioned only, Possibly Pre-Slash, Sam Has a Dog, Sleep, Slight swearing, Suicidal Thoughts, Watching Someone Sleep, past self-harm, sleeping disorders, suicidal Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-04-20 05:49:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14254329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/pseuds/Hyrulehearts1123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: Sam has always had trouble sleeping. Having a Demon!Dean running around the bunker didn't help, but even after it was all said and done, that relationship with sleep didn't improve. Gabriel, he didn't have a much better relationship with sleep.(Rated T for light swearing) Light spoilers for season 13x17 The Thing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is gen, but if you want to read it as pre-slash, that’s okay too.  
> I’ve only seen supernatural up to season 6, plus the last two season 13 episodes that aired (Scoobynatural and The Thing) so I will not be held responsible for any inaccuracies for my portrayal of 10-13. There are possible spoilers for 13x17.
> 
> This was edited by ThallenCambricaltren and it was a prompt fill for Daily Sam Winchester Prompts on Tumblr found at the following link.  
> https://dailysamwinchesterprompts.tumblr.com/post/170763276213/sam-starts-sleeping-in-some-secret-nook-in-the

Sam's relationship with sleep had never not been rocky at best. The genuine fear of what demon!Dean might do to him while he slept only worsened the little amount of sleep he got to begin with.

It became a game for Sam. What nook would be hardest for anyone (Dean) to find him in. If he was going to be safe, he had to win the game of hide and seek where being found meant death.

It was watching some MCU movie that gave Sam the idea. Clint seemed like the kind of person who would nap in the vents because A) no one would look for him there and B) who would stumble upon him accidentally? Some internet searches determined that most of the fandom agreed that Clint would probably hang out in the vents, but Sam would deny having any knowledge of that. The internet was for research, not for pleasure.  _Er,_  moving on.

The bunker had weird vents and while Sam would never voluntarily go back into the sewer (that's another story), the air ducts were really really really old (ancient) and big (debatably). He did hope they wouldn't collapse on him or fall down. (That would be way too much fun.) But strangely enough, any residual claustrophobia from being in the cage with two angry archangels (Don't go there, Sam.) was nothing compared to the security in the very unlikely chance that anyone (Dean) would find him.

It wasn't about sleeping/napping in the beginning. In the beginning, it was about having alone time away from his brother when he couldn't take it anymore. But that calm brought something else, too.

The first time Sam woke up from unexpected sleep, it was from the largest uninterrupted sleep he'd had in years! Even in Stanford, insomnia had plagued him (until Jess).

Breakfast with Dean after that had been a trial. Dean's suspicion was at its worst. Mostly teasing and mocking at first, until it reached new heights. "Did you get laid? No, you couldn't have left the bunker, I'd have known…." A few more joking remarks Sam ignored until, "What the Hell are you into? You didn't relapse on the demon blood…"

"Dean! Shut the fuck up!"

"Your brother has not imbibed on demon blood, I would know," Cas interjected.

Sam fled, and after that, he made no further attempt to seek a repeat of the amazing sleep. It wasn't worth it if it was just going to set Dean off.

That's not to say that that sleep didn't find Sam whether he would wish for it or not. He would travel the vents instead of using hallways in a strange almost emulation of Clint Barton and fall asleep before arriving at his destination. He couldn't help it, these things just happened.

Which didn't do anything to alleviate Dean's suspicion that something was up with his Sammy. His Sammy didn't really care though, because every single unintentional nap that ended nightmare free was one step closer to a more relaxed Sam that didn't startle at every little noise thinking he was under attack. Sleep deprivation was a cause of paranoia, Sam read one day. Narcolepsy was falling asleep at the drop of a hat. There was some comfort for Sam in knowing what had changed. That didn't stop him from feeling a touch of satisfaction every time he woke up feeling refreshed when that hadn't happened in decades.

It was weird the first time Castiel teleported to him while he was in the vents. (Why was there even cell service in the vents? The men of letters who built the bunker lived before phone lines and the internet existed…)

"Samuel? Where are we?" Castiel asked, perpetual confusion evident.

"We're in the bunker's vents," Sam replied. He considered what justification to give. Since when had he needed an explanation for every single thing he decided to do in a day? He was an adult for fuck's sake!

"Sam?" Sam waited. Castiel didn't mention the vents. "You seem well." Sam still didn't say anything. "Can you show me where the exit from these tunnels is?"

Sam smiled slightly. "Sure."

Castiel never mentioned the air ducts. Not to Sam and not to Dean. They weren't really Sam's secret, but it kind of was.

Sam stopped sleeping in his bed altogether. Trying to sleep in the bed after the amazing sleep in the tunnels was like trying to go back to sleeping on the floor after first discovering the comfort of a good king sized mattress.

Dean didn't notice. Sammy still fell asleep while researching, so while Dean still thought something was up, everything seemed mostly normal to him. Or normal enough.

And then Jack was living in the bunker too and Cas thought they should all be good role models. Which meant reasonable sleep habits for the humans and Dean trying to make sure Sam got enough sleep.

Except Sam was always impossible to find at bedtime. He was reading or cataloging books in the various libraries or watching some movie, or cleaning something from top to bottom. (Usually the vents, or so he claimed. Cas and Jack did not understand why Sam would so frequently clean the ducts. Dean still did not know that Sam hung out in those nooks and crannies.)

But then Mary and Jack ended up in apocalypse world and Sam only slept when he fell asleep researching because Dean wouldn't give him any space at all. So it felt like just another day when Sam woke up to Dean acting a little weird. They were so close to getting what they needed to open a portal back to Apocalypse world.

It was a really long fucking day. And then it got even longer because it turned out that Gabriel was alive. Dean and Ketch went to Apocalypse world leaving Sam, Gabriel, and Cas, all by themselves.

* * *

Gabriel didn't sleep easily. He needed it to recover because Asmodeus had kept him so low for so long. He still had some grace, but not enough to fix himself even if he'd wanted to, which he didn't, because what if he needed it for something more important like defending himself? It would regenerate, of course, but it wouldn't be instantaneous.

He slept easier with his back to a wall, but even then, it was pretty lucky if he could get even a few hours of shuteye without waking up in the throes of another nightmare. Not that he let anyone know what was going on. His relationship with the Winchesters had never really developed and then after Asmodeus… It was better to stay on the defensive.

One day, a few weeks after Ketch and Dean had left for Apocalypse world, (they'd portal themselves back when they found Jack and Mary) Gabriel was walking around the bunker in the middle of the night.

In the smallest library in one of the upstairs floors, there was an entrance to the air duct system in the floor. Gabriel found Sam curled up inside it, sound asleep. Castiel was also in the room, staring at the human in confusion.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at the younger angel. "Is this normal?"

"Sam spends many of his spare seconds in the vents. I do not understand why he prefers it to his bedroom."

Gabriel was still not completely aware of the everything that had happened in the last eight years, but he was still capable of seeing souls and Sam's…. He knew that Sam had been in the cage. The spell he'd suggested was one thing, but to actually get Lucifer to jump? It was a little unbelievable that Sam had managed to make it work, but it had clearly done a number to his soul. As had so many other things.

"I think I understand," Gabriel said. He had not managed to escape with as little claustrophobia as Sam appeared to have, but he could understand not wanting to be found while in his most vulnerable state. Gabriel liked corners best, and there'd been this really nice desk he'd pushed against a wall in another library.

The seraph and the archangel spent the night reading in that library. Mary Winchester may have once told her children that angels were watching over them without really understanding what that could mean, but it was true. Castiel had kind of learned better than to be obvious about staring at the Winchesters while they slept, but he was also curious about what Sam was doing.

Sam woke up to the scent of pancakes. But he couldn't remember where he was. He'd been on his way to the little library to grab a book, but climbing up the air duct was always more tiring than transversing horizontally or down, so he'd curled up for a second to catch his breath. He must have dozed off again.

He didn't realize that he wasn't alone until he had finished climbing out of the vent. Both angels were watching him. Daylight streamed through the window. "Good morning," Sam said, swallowing thickly in an attempt to hide his nervousness.

Gabriel was eating pancakes drenched in too much syrup and Castiel was watching Sam over a book he had been reading, or pretending to read. "There's pancakes if you want them," Gabriel offered.

Sam wanted to flee. He wasn't hungry, not really. Not that he'd had much of an appetite in forever. But the pancakes Gabe was eating genuinely smelled delicious and he needed to eat. "Sure," he said.

Gabriel fixed Sam a plate and put it across from him. Sam sat and picked at the pancake. It was good, but he was only so hungry.

"Why were you sleeping in the air duct?" Castiel asked. That wasn't the only question that would fix his confusion. "I was not aware that humans clean their air ducts as often as you claim to do so."

Sam nearly choked on the bite he'd just taken.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Kiddo… I've known air ducts that caught fire before anyone thought to clean them, and you don't seem like the kind of person to waste time with that. So what were you really doing?"

Sam shrugged. He sipped at his water, grateful that doing so let him think about what he wanted to say. Why did he need to justify himself? There were no demons in the air ducts, so there was no trouble for him to get into. Or was there just no trust in him because his past mistakes were that irredeemable? "It's just another passageway," Sam decided. "I was coming to get a book from here. I fell asleep, that's all."

"Sam…"

"No," Sam said. "I'm not going to talk about it." He felt angry, like they were calling him out, even though he knew he didn't really have anything to hide. He set down the fork and got up to leave. He'd only eaten half the pancake, but he was done. He wasn't going to put up with their questions or that confused look Castiel kept giving him. Gabriel just looked sad. Well, he didn't need their pity either. So what if he liked sleeping in the ducts? Maybe he did it so he didn't have to put up with stupid questions from them.

A different library in the building had a relatively long desk, almost a table really, pushed against the back corner of the room. Sam was sitting at it taking notes on a book he was reading when he dropped his pen. It rolled under the table with a light whir. Sighing, he knelt down to climb under it to get his pen back. He pulled himself farther under almost completely to the wall to be able to reach it. Having reclaimed his pen, he settled down briefly. This was a nice spot, he decided, when he rotated such that his back was against the wall, shifting his legs to stretch out in front of him, still shadowed under the table. Plus, no surprises. And if the angels believed they'd find him in the air vents because they'd ousted his spot, well…. They probably wouldn't think to look for him here.

Sam closed his eyes. He wondered if Dean and Ketch had found Jack and Mary yet. He hoped they hadn't run into any problems. Cas thought of Jack as his son just as much as Jack thought of Cas as papa. Sam couldn't remember if they'd told Gabriel about the nephilim. Hadn't the archangels been the ones to wipe out the nephilim out the first time around? Sam liked Gabriel, he really did, but they would defend Jack against anyone who tried to hurt him. Even against Gabriel.

He dozed off again. There was a reason Sam could fall asleep researching when he couldn't fall asleep in his own bed. Besides, the floor wasn't that bad.

When Sam woke up, he wasn't alone. Gabriel was napping under the same table. Which should have been weird, or disconcerting, or even a little offensive. There were plenty of other tables to nap under after all, but for some strange reason, Sam felt safe instead, protected even. His back was against a wall so no one could sneak up from behind him and Gabriel was more likely to protect him than hurt him.

Gabriel had brought more than one pillow with him and was wrapped in a fleece blanket. Sam hadn't considered putting bedding in any of his spaces because it would be too much of a giveaway that he wasn't sleeping in his own bed. Besides, if anyone found his pile of bedding, they'd know where he was and wasn't part of this supposed to be that no one could find him? But Sam… Sam wasn't as young as he'd used to be. Dean was almost forty years old. Sleeping on the floor and sleeping in the vents was hard on his back, even if the refreshing sleep without nightmares made it worth it.

But Sam felt safe here, lying on the floor under the table, back against the wall. Gabriel wasn't going to hurt him, and neither was Cas, so what did it matter if the angels knew he was here? As long as he was actually sleeping, maybe they wouldn't breath a word of it to Dean. And Dean, Dean wouldn't expect to find him in this part of a room. To Dean, if Sam was in a room he could be seen from the doorway. This was out of sight of the doorway.

"Hey." Gabriel's quiet voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts. "Do you want something to eat or are you going to go back to sleep?"

There was a pillow between their heads, so Sam reached for it and put it under his own head. It was more comfortable than using the floor or his arm as a pillow. What did he want? He felt rested enough that if Asmodeus showed his slimy self, Sam could, and would, fight him. But if going back to sleep meant putting off this conversation, that'd be nice too. Except Sam knew that Gabriel wasn't going to leave. Angels didn't need the facilities, after all, and if Gabriel didn't want to move out from under the table, he wasn't going to.

That didn't bother Sam though. Maybe it should have, but he still didn't feel trapped. Gabriel still wasn't here to hurt him, and Sam just felt safe. "A blanket would be nice," he decided. The bunker was chilly and while Sam had been dealing with it for years, it would be nice to lie here without being cold. He was hungry, but he didn't want to leave. "Can we just eat right here?"

Gabriel snapped. A big fleece comforter and fruit smoothies appeared. "Smoothie?"

"Sure, why not." Sam took his smoothie and sipped it. He was pleasantly surprised that it was not too sweet. Gabriel pushed the blanket towards him, so Sam draped it over himself. It was nice.

They laid under the table in silence only disturbed by the quiet sucking of smoothie through straw. Back before his supposed death, Gabriel might have used the straw as obnoxiously as possible, but not now.

"So tell me something, Sam-a-lam," Gabriel started.

Sam didn't have it in him to tense at that. This relaxed Gabriel was radiating peace. Or maybe it was the peacefulness of the space.

"Do you like my hiding place?" Gabriel asked. "I was thinking we could make it into an awesome pillow fort. What would it take to keep Deano out of here? A ball pit in the middle of the room? Stuffed animals on the bookshelves? What if the floor of this room was an air mattress?"

Sam listened as Gabriel's ideas got increasingly silly. This was the Gabriel he remembered. The Trickster that just wanted to have a bit of fun. These ideas might have been a lot more tame, but the goal was similar.

Things wouldn't get better instantaneous. Sam wouldn't suddenly keep normal hours and he wouldn't sudden want to sleep in his own bed, but he could handle a Gabriel willing to consider sharing the space he'd staked out away from everyone. And if Sam dozed off listening to Gabriel chattering away like a magpie, well, neither of them was going to tell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear that this story was supposed to be a oneshot. I swear. But Hyrule is an influence and now there's more. This should have been fluffy.... but no.
> 
> This is canon divergent from near the end of The Thing. (Gabriel shows up in the bunker and Dean gets to apocalypse world some other way. He'll be gone awhile.)
> 
> Warnings for eating disorders and sleeping disorders.

Gabriel watched Sam sleep. He was sure something was off with the hunter, but he couldn’t name what it was. Now that Sam was stretched out, the archangel could see what he had earlier been beginning to suspect.

 

Sam had looked surprisingly small, curled up in the vent and Gabriel had expected it to some extent when Sam had fled from the library appearing hunched into himself. But lying on the floor, even with the blanket over his frame, Gabriel could tell that Sam had lost weight, and the hunter had been mostly muscle from the start. This wasn’t the Sam that had tracked him for six months inside his time loop in a misguided attempt to make him bring Dean back from the “dead”. That Sam had been determined and motivated and headstrong. This also wasn’t the Sam that had backed his brother in questioning him after TV land. No. This Sam had fled the library with very little more than token anger at being questioned.

 

Gabriel had not figured out exactly what was up with Sam yet, but he wanted to figure it out. Sam had eaten part of a pancake and the smoothie he’d snapped up, but the hunter hadn’t just shrunk. This had been a long term thing, and the archangel wanted to know what he’d missed that had resulted in  _ this _ . And what about Dean? Gabriel remembered the two boys practically living in each other’s back pockets, so why the Hell hadn’t Dean noticed that Sam was losing weight he couldn’t afford to lose and wasn’t sleeping, either?

 

Sam slept. When Sam had passed falling asleep in the vent opening as just something that happened and nothing to be concerned about, Gabriel had suspected it was normal, but that meant that Sam was getting a good number of hours of sleep, right? Right? Sam’s vitals were within a normal range for a human, though his weight was definitely low for a man as tall and as muscular as him. He just kept sleeping. So Gabriel waited. He dozed and read a book. He was a Trickster, but he wasn’t an ass and it would be in poor taste to prank someone who didn’t have the energy to deal with it. So he waited, and Sam woke up in the early afternoon.

 

Sam woke while Gabriel was reading or at least pretending to read. Sam had long since learned how to go from asleep to awake without giving away that he was awake so he was able to look at the archangel before he finally noticed that Sam was awake.

 

Gabriel was reading on his back, reclined on a pile of pillows and looking comfortable in a shirt and sweatpants. At some point he’d summoned another drink, this one a thick liquid of dark green. It reminded Sam of a veggie smoothie and he swallowed thickly, alerting the archangel that he was awake.

 

“Good afternoon, Sammoose. Are you finally awake?” Gabriel shut his book, turning onto his side to better face the hunter. He considered asking Sam if he was hungry, but decided against it for the moment.

 

The hunter blinked sleepily. These days, awake was a relative term. But should he say as much to Gabriel? Was it even the archangel’s business? Then again, he had apparently found the other’s own secret hideaway. Why was Gabriel letting him stay?

 

A grumble from his stomach interrupted Sam’s musing. He didn't feel hungry, but his stomach seemed to think otherwise. Maybe he could just go back to sleep. That made some of the hunger go away sometimes.

 

“Ah- ah,” Gabriel tsked, interrupting as Sam’s eyes drifted towards closed. ‘You’ve eaten half a pancake and a smoothie today. You’ll probably feel more awake after lunch.”

 

“Lunch?” Sam’s nose curled a little at the thought of actually ordering food. There was probably something in the fridge, but even preparing a meal just for himself felt like an impossible task.

 

“Yep! Cas popped out a little while ago, so it’s just you and me for lunch. What do you want to eat? Just say the words and I will snap it into existence!” Gabriel noted the way Sam visibly relaxed at being told Gabriel would summon their food. What had he missed?

 

Sam had no idea what he wanted. He was sure he would be wary of mojo’d food after Lucifer had- but there was also no way Gabriel would poison it… Right?

 

When Sam made no comment regarding his choice, Gabriel changed tactics. “Would you rather I pick? Personally, I really like pineapple marinated chicken and mango white rice. Or pineapple rice. Or pancakes for dinner. Or…”

 

Sam cut him off. ‘What about pot pies? I know they’re savory and Dean says it’s not real pie but I liked them and I haven’t had any since Amelia…”

 

“Do you have a preference for what kind?” He could do pot pies. He could have snapped it up regardless of how simple or complicated, but Gabriel was pleased it was something of substance.

 

“Vegetarian?” Sam bit his lip, ready for Gabriel to laugh and mock him for that choice. Dean would tease, but Dean always teased and it wouldn’t be Dean if he didn’t. But that was fine, and he worried the archangel would disappear, forcing Sam to track down his own meal. Nausea settled in the pit of his stomach. He wasn’t really hungry, this was just another trick ready to catch him off guard. The hunter wasn’t tired any more, his uncomfortable thoughts rousing him from the sleepy state that being comfortable was no prone to place him into.

 

The archangel snapped, conjuring a table ladened with food. There were pot pies, but that wasn’t the only food he summoned. Gabriel also summoned falafel with toppings, hummus, carrot sticks, and a bowl of fruit.

 

Sam should have expected Gabriel to be incapable of doing anything by halves. There was so much food on the table, he felt like he could eat for a month or two. What was he supposed to do with all the leftovers? There was no way the fridge would hold all of it. “What are you going to do with all of the leftovers?” His voice held a note of awe. He knew Gabriel was an archangel and that he held powers of creation, but snapping up such an elaborate meal  _ for him _ felt so unnecessary.

 

“I’ll just snap it away,” Gabriel replied dismissively. “But if you want to save some leftovers, I can put them in the fridge for you to eat later.”

 

Sam climbed out from under the table. There was no reason to waste good food and his stomach still thought it wanted to be fed. He smiled shyly at Gabriel before taking a seat at the proffered table.  _ So many choices.  _ Why did vegetarian pot pies have to be so complicated? “Falafel too?”

 

“Sorry, Sam. I like pot pies, but don’t you think it’s a little, simple? Falafel’s vegetarian too, and the possible ways to serve it are endless!”

 

Endless choices? Sam raised an eyebrow. He didn’t want to make any choices. He wanted to eat his pot pie and maybe get back to work in the library. The men of letters had left random books all over the bunker with little rhyme or reason and he had taken to organizing them in the bigger rooms. He most definitely didn’t want to assemble some Falafel dish.

 

Gabriel piled his own plate high with both pot pie and Falafel, and delicately poured a tahini sauce of his own recipe. One tablespoon was nowhere near enough maple syrup. When Sam continued to stare at the food on the table, Gabriel sliced a piece of pie and put it on a second plate along with a few Falafel balls. “What would you like on your Falafel, Sam-a-lam? Personally, I really like this tahini sauce with extra maple syrup in it, but it might be too sweet for you. Otherwise, I’d recommend a little guac and sour cream topped with diced tomatoes,” he said cheerfully, taking a bite of his deliciously sweet falafel.

 

Sam swallowed again. Everything smelled delicious but there was so much food here. The last time he'd seen so much food in one place was when Sully had brought all his childhood favorites to get him to find out who was killing Zanna.

 

Gabriel watched as Sam's stare changed from curiosity to a one of glassy eyes. Had he misjudged when he’d summoned all this food? He put the basic toppings he suggested on the side of the second plate next to the falafel and put the plate in front of Sam. “Sam?”

 

The hunter blinked and looked at the plate Gabriel had put in front of him. Okay. This was food and he didn’t even have to decide what he’d wanted from the table. Sam didn’t quite sigh in relief, but his exhale was close. There was a fork by his plate, so he picked it up and started in on the pot pie.

 

The archangel started eating his own food, watching Sam discretely as he did so. The hunter ate slowly, but at least he was eating, which Gabriel figured was probably a good start for right now. He still had to figure out everything that had happened since he’d supposedly died, but doing anything that might make Sam stop eating was a definite no-no.

 

Sam did not clear his plate, nor had Gabriel expected him to. The archangel was pleased that the hunter tried the falafel and even seemed to enjoy it. That was good. He could still only guess at what exactly was wrong. This was clearly years in the making, and he could only guess at why it was coming to a head now. It could have something to do with Dean being in apocalypse world, but that seemed unlikely.

 

“You should save some of these leftovers,” Sam said. He rolled one of the remaining falafel balls around on his plate. He appreciated the simplicity of sour cream and guacamole that Gabriel had selected for him.

 

“I snapped it into existence,” Gabriel reminded him. “Nothing’s wasted if I just remove it.”

 

“I know.” Sam picked up his cup and sipped. When was the last time he had eaten before Gabriel had snapped up the waffles? He didn’t think he’d left the bunker since Dean went to apocalypse world. How many weeks had he been gone now? Two, three, four? And with Asmodeus still at large, he and Gabriel hadn’t felt the desire to go anywhere. “Please?”

 

Gabriel agreed and even offered to put them away himself. It was a nice day outside, so he proffered the suggestion that Sam should go outside for a little while. Get some sunshine. The archangel didn’t really want to let the hunter out of his sight knowing there was something up with him, but going outside would be good for him. The archangel wasn’t sure he could remember Sam leaving the bunker at all since Dean had left.

 

Sam liked the idea of going for a walk and left. When he had shut the door to the bunker behind him, Gabriel started cleaning up. He snapped the dirty dishes clean and put away and the food into nice takeout boxes that would never go bad. He walked them to the kitchen himself, because he had not looked inside the fridge at all since he’d been there. If he was going to make sure Sam ate, then he’d better make sure there was food to eat.

 

The fridge was empty, save for a post-it note taped to a shelf. The note was from Dean to Sam, a reminder and a direction to go shopping, along with a shopping list of things Dean thought Sam should buy. Chief among it being pie. Of course.

 

Gabriel wasn’t sure Sam had ever seen the shopping list. How much of the last three weeks had Sam spent asleep? The vent thing was clearly not new, but had Sam not been eating, either? The hunter had been noticeably more gaunt, but his vistals hadn’t suggested he had given up eating altogether, unless he’d missed something important.

 

While he waited for Sam to return, Gabriel took stock of all the cupboards. There was some food, but it was looking pretty sparse. There was some bread, some unpopped popcorn, saltine crackers, instant coffee, and a few cans of food, but that was about it. He’d have to talk to Sam, see if he could get a better idea of what was wrong with him.

 

Several hours passed and Gabriel started to worry about the hunter. Had he missed something? Sam had slept and eaten, but had his muscles at some point atrophied from lack of use? If there were any monsters around, Sam would make pretty good prey. And what if Asmodeus had located him? He had to find Sam.

* * *

Sam left the bunker and walked with no destination in mind. The sun was shining and there were no clouds that he could see. It was waring than inside the bunker, which was nice because he had been feeling perpetually cold. The hunter missed taking his daily runs, but the constant overwhelming exhaustion he had been feeling for the past few years had mostly put an end to that.

Time had no meaning to Sam. He walked for what felt like hours, no destination in mind. It was nice to get out. He should do that more. Dean would be pissed he hadn’t gone on any hunts but he didn’t care.

Sam eventually came to a bench on the side of the road. It was a metal bench, like a park bench or the bench at a bus stop. His stomach was cramping,  _ Don’t exercise right after eating,  _ so he decided to sit down next to it on the curb. It was a quiet day, there weren’t any cars around or people out. His head was a little achy,  _ Maybe you’re dehydrated _ . He’d feel better in a few minutes, he’d just rest his head against bench. The metal was cold and it felt nice. Maybe he needed more than a few minutes. Then he’d walk back.

  
  


“Sam?! Wake up!”

The hunter blinked. Gabriel’s face was right in front of his and he jerked backwards, banging his head against the metal leg of the bench in the process.

“Oh, ouch! Don’t do that.” Gabriel reached forward, one finger coming towards Sam’s head. 

The hunter threw himself backwards again, reacting on instinct alone. “No! No, don’t touch me!” The archangel pulled his hand back as though he’d been burned and Sam curled into himself. He panted, trying to catch his breath and calm himself. Gabriel wasn’t going to hurt him. He wasn’t. But he knew why he didn’t want anyone mojoing him. Not even Gabriel. Not even Cas. His skin crawled with the reminder of Lucifer and Gadreel. He wanted to shower, scald his skin and scrape the harsh soap over his skin until it felt like himself again. But it hadn’t worked then and it wouldn’t work now.  _ Not a healthy coping mechanism. _

“Sam?” The archangel wished that Sam and Castiel had been more thorough with their explanation of what he had missed, but now wasn’t the time for those things. “Sam, I thought you’d gotten eaten!”

“Was I whammied?” Sam thought his head felt odd. Like he was sharing it with an oppressive cloud. Was that why he’d fallen asleep next to a park bench? “I feel like I was whammied.”

Gabriel’s facial expression didn’t change from the worry he’d allowed himself to show. His concern had not really been about Sam being eaten, but that whatever was wrong with Sam had affected him while he’d been gone, and he’d been right about that. The hunter had been genuinely terrified when he’d reached for him,  _ What did he think I would do him?  _ Yet his blood pressure had still been low for a human. How low was dangerously low? “I don’t think you were whammied, you were just just sleeping,” he replied. “Sam, if I asked you why you keep falling asleep at the drop of a hat, would you tell me?”

Sam uncurled, pulling himself back into a seated position and putting his arms on his knees. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “I thought it could be narcolepsy, but…”

Gabriel thought he knew where that thought was going. “But you never fell asleep driving or hunting.” Sam nodded. That’s what he’d been thinking too. The archangel held out his hand again, intending to pull Sam up. This time he was careful to make it clear that he wasn’t going to touch Sam unless the hunter initiated the contact.

Sam took the proffered hand and let Gabriel help pull him up. “Sor-sorry, about,” he hesitated, stumbling over his words, “About, that.” He finished lamely, downcast gaze away from the archangel.

Gabriel tilted his head. He knew he had not scared Sam Before or even earlier in the bunker. Which meant that something had happened to Sam and  _ he’d triggered something. _ “It’s okay, Sam-a-lam. I’m not going to hurt you.” He waited for the hunter to look up at him, and then he continued, “We should go back to the bunker. Are you okay if we fly?”

“You can still fly?” Sam gave the archangel a confused look. “I thought…”

“You and Castiel mentioned Metatron closing the gates of Heaven.” Gabriel had taken his time with processing what they had told him, but they had also left a lot out. “I was held captive in a place where I was not affected or aware of it.”

“Can you… Can you restore the wings of the angels in the host?”

“I’m not sure,” Gabriel replied. “I wouldn’t want to give them false hope, and I’m not sure they would want me back. Not after I ran away and let them think I was dead for a few thousand years.” Sam nodded, but he didn’t say anything else and he didn’t answer Gabriel’s original question. “May I fly you back to the bunker?”

“No!” Sam winced, flinching as though expecting something to come anyway. The harsh response escaped before he could stop or retract it. “Please don’t,” he whispered, half expecting Gabriel to fly him back to the bunker anyway. But it never came. No sharp tug was followed by the feeling of vast nothingness that felt like an infinite amount of time during which he couldn’t breath.

Gabriel  _ knew _ something was wrong with the picture he was perceiving, and realized he thought he knew why Sam had pulled away when he’d reached to make sure Sam hadn’t injured himself. “Okay, Sam, we can walk.” There would have to be a conversation eventually. Sam had been fine with the mojo’d food, but was being mojo’d himself for whatever reason the potential  trigger?

Sam trailed behind Gabriel as they trekked back to the bunker. He  _ knew _ Gabriel wasn’t going to hurt him.  _ He knew that. _ So why did even thinking about letting Gabriel fly him somewhere freak him out so much? There was no reason for him to panic so much, especially when he knew that Gabriel was still recovering from his time being held by Asmodeus.

But even then, he couldn’t help but worry that Gabriel might decide to take out his frustrations at being so weak on him. It didn’t make sense, and it wouldn’t be anything like how Gabriel had acted before he had faked his death against Lucifer, but the worry was still there, hiding in the back of his mind.

He just hoped that his fears were entirely wrong.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for retching in this chapter.
> 
> Please be warned that the next few chapters get darker before they get better. Please be safe.
> 
> (also from here on out like, 90% has been written by Hyrule, aka me, so yeah. hi!)

Gabriel was growing more and more concerned that something was horribly wrong with Sam as he led him back to the bunker that the Winchesters called their home. First there had been the hour and a half that Sam had spent passed out on a bench out in the middle of the woods, and his panic over the mere possibility of being flown back to the bunker, but now as they slowly made their way through the woods, he was fighting to not just give in and fly them back anyway.

 

Sam had been pale the past several days, but in the past ten minutes, the miniscule amount of color had vanished from his face, and his eyes had slowly grown less focused. Before long, a hand on his elbow was the only thing keeping Sam steady as he walked slower than an old lady with a walker. But regardless of his fears, Gabriel would respect Sam’s wishes, and not fly him back to the bunker. There was clearly some major trauma there, and he wasn’t sure how to address it right then, so he would just have to walk with Sam.

 

Gabriel hated himself for it, but he knew that it would be best for Sam to return to the bunker as soon as possible, even if it would be more beneficial for Sam to sit for a while. But as much as Gabriel wanted to give Sam the chance to sit and rest, he also worried that if Sam sat down, he would fall asleep again, and Gabriel wouldn’t be able to move him again until he woke for fear that Sam would panic.

 

It took far longer than he could have ever wanted, but eventually the bunker came into view, and Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief. The sooner he could get Sam to sit down, drink some water, and have something to eat, the better.

 

“Alright Sam-I-Am, let’s get you inside and resting. No sleeping though, if you can handle it, I’ve got a lot of questions for you, if you can even answer them.” Gabriel mumbled the last part, knowing it was soft enough that the man wouldn’t hear it. Not that it seemed Sam was paying too much attention anyway, with his eyes barely focused on anything, and somehow even more color fading from his face as they slowly descended the stairs.

 

There was heat radiating from Sam, but whether the fever was in response to the time Sam had spent in the cool of the outside, or from a virus that he had somehow picked up without Gabriel’s notice, he had no idea. Tightening his grip on Sam’s arm as they went down the last few stairs, Gabe paused when Sam grabbed the railing at the bottom of the stairs, eyes closed, and his breathing rapid. “Sam? What’s wrong, Kiddo?”

 

Sam was quiet for a moment, before he finally spoke. “Don’t feel good, really don’t feel good,” he mumbled, moments before sinking down. Gabriel moved quickly to sit him on the stairs before he could fall on his face.

 

Gabriel fought to remain calm as he knelt in front of the ailing man. “Hey, you need to calm down. Take deep breaths, you’re alright, I promise.” Summoning a bucket just in case it would be needed, Gabriel also created a hairband to help hold Sam’s hair out of his face should anything happen. “Sammy, I need you to try to focus for a second, ok?”

 

Several seconds passed before Sam finally lifted his face, looking at Gabriel with barely focused confusion. Knowing that his chance was short, Gabriel fought to find the easiest way to explain what was needed in the shortest time possible. “Sam, I really want to get you somewhere you can lie down. I know you don’t want me to fly you anywhere, but would it be alright if I carry you to the same library as earlier, or do you want me to get Cassie and have him do it?”

 

It took a while, but Sam finally managed to mumble out a, “You, please,” and Gabriel picked him up, carrying him to the far away library as swiftly and smoothly as possible.

 

“Alright Kiddo, let’s get you settled, and I’ll see about trying to find something for you to drink. Maybe some water will help you to feel a bit better, or some ginger ale.” Gently lowering Sam to the floor, Gabriel took a second to create a number of cushions and pillows to help make the space more comfortable before helping to move Sam into the corner. “I’m going to go get you something to drink and some medicine, and talk to Cas for a few minutes. You just hang here for a moment, and I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise.” Making sure the bucket was nearby should Sam need it, Gabriel sighed at the lack of any real response, before leaving the library, keeping the door cracked so that Sam wouldn’t feel closed in.

 

The minute he was sure that Sam wouldn’t see him, Gabriel flew from the hallway to where Castiel was sitting in the kitchen, a glass of water sitting beside him, apparently having overheard their general conversation. “I have a drink for Sam. Do you know what is causing him to feel so unwell?”

 

Gabriel shook his head, sitting across from his younger brother. “Not yet, but I’m going to run a detailed scan on him after he falls asleep.” Hanging his head in his hands, Gabriel groaned in frustration as he pulled at his hair. With a deep breath, he looked back up at his brother, who seemed to look guilty for some reason. “Cas, I’m going to give you one chance to explain what is happening here. How things with Sam got so bad, what led to him being completely incapable of taking care of himself without Dean here to do it for him, I don’t care what you say.”

 

Castiel looked apprehensive, but Gabriel carried on. “I want to help him, I honestly do. I know you do too, and I know that if Dean were here, he would want to help too.” Castiel flinched, something that Gabriel did not fail to notice. “But Dean isn’t here, and that leaves us. I can’t help Sam, help him to learn to take care of himself again, until I know what led us to this point, and what needs to happen to make sure he can be alright.”

 

Castiel was shaking slightly, sighing softly as he shook his head. “I’m sorry Gabriel, but I can’t tell you.”

 

“And why not?!” Gabriel shouted, standing up quickly as he slammed his hands on the tabletop. “Sam is killing himself a little more every day, and if something doesn’t change, he might be gone in a month, he might be gone in a week!”

 

Running a hand through his hair to try and calm down, Gabriel began to pace around the kitchen. After a minute, he turned back to Castiel, sighing softly. “Cas, things can’t continue this way, they shouldn’t have been like this as long a they have. Please, anything you can tell me, I need to know. I can’t just sit and watch Sam waste away while there’s anything I can do to help him.”

 

Castiel shook his head again, burying his face in his hands. “I can’t, it’s not my place to tell. And even if it were, I-” He trailed off, shaking his head again. “I’m sorry Brother. I want to tell you, I truly do. But there’s so much that has happened, and all of us have had our own parts in causing what has happened.”

 

There was so much that was left unsaid, but Gabriel knew that he had gained as much as he would from Castiel. With a heavy sigh, and a final nod, Gabriel relented, walking around the table and placing a hand on Castiel’s shoulder. “I understand Castiel. The situation is more complicated than anything we have had to face from one person, and-”

 

There was a sound coming from the library he had left Sam in, the sound of someone getting violently sick. It took a moment for everything to connect, painting a horrifying picture.

 

There was hardly any food in the refrigerator or cabinets, and what little was there had clearly been there for the last several weeks. Sam likely hadn’t eaten since Dean had left, or shortly after, and Gabriel had fed him food that was far too heavy for someone who hadn’t eaten in that long.

 

He had pushed even more suffering upon Sam due to his own inattention and misplaced priorities. Flying as fast as he could to the library, Gabriel just hoped that he hadn’t unintentionally caused more harm than he could easily fix.

  
  
  


He landed right next to Sam, bracing him with an arm around his chest as he leaned over the bucket. He felt horrible for his part in causing Sam pain of any kind, and knew he had his work cut of for him if he wanted to help Sam recover.

 

“There we go Sammy, just let it all out Honey.” Sam was shaking, and Gabriel couldn’t blame him. Getting sick was never fun, no matter who you were, and getting sick when you were as weak as Sam was, well, that was just a risk. “You’re gonna be just fine Sammy, I promise. I screwed up, but I’m gonna make it better, I swear.”

 

A weak hand came to grasp and Gabriel’s wrist, and Sam whimpered as another shudder shook his body. “I know, I know. You’re going to be alright Honey, just let it happen. I’ll get you something that’ll be easier on your stomach in just a minute, just as soon as I know you’re finished.” With a gentle hand running through Sam’s hair, pulling it back as best as he could, Gabriel slowly helped Sam lay back against the wall. He was fairly certain that Sam was done being sick, and now he just wanted to make him comfortable.

 

“Don’t feel good,” Sam slurred, leaning heavily on Gabriel as he shook. “Really don’t feel good.”

 

With a sigh, Gabriel created a glass of water, holding it so Sam could take a few weak sips. “I know Sweetheart, you’re gonna be alright.” After he made sure that Sam wasn’t going to choke on the water, he created a simple broth that was low in calories, but high in nutrients, and hopefully wouldn’t cause Sam to be sick again. It wasn’t much, and there was no possibility to have any medication laced into the meal, but it would have to do. “Can you drink some of this for me Sweetheart? You don’t need it all, just as much as you can. I’ll be happy with anything you can manage, I promise.”

 

It took nearly ten minutes, but Sam was finally able to drink about half of the small bowl of broth. When it was clear that he wouldn’t be able to have any more than he already had, Gabriel banished the broth, and refilled the glass of water with barely a thought. “Are you feeling any better, even just a little bit?”

 

Sam nodded softly, leaning his head on Gabriel’s shoulder as he slowly dropped into sleep. So much had happened in such a short time, and Gabriel had no idea how he was still managing to stay as calm as he was. He knew that he would have to do a detailed scan of Sam’s systems before he could get the whole picture of what was going on, but he didn’t know if Sam would be capable of handling that much Grace in his system, or if he would panic the same way the thought of flying would. An idea formed, and Gabriel laid his head atop Sam’s, whispering his request quietly.   
  
“Sammy, will you let me help you sleep, so that I can do a full diagnosis, to make sure that this isn’t anything serious? I swear to you that you will be safe, and nothing will happen without your consent, but I just want you to have the chance to rest without interruption from anything for a few hours, as well as allowing me to know how I can help you.”

 

Sam was so quiet, that for a moment, Gabriel was almost certain that he had lost his chance, and Sam had already fallen asleep, unable to consent to his aid, though the true depths of the diagnosis was deceptive at best. But against all odds, Sam nodded almost imperceivably, sighing softly as he did so.

 

With a sad smile, Gabriel brought a hand up to rest on Sam’s forehead, a gentle request to sleep pulsing through the Grace that he slowly pushed into Sam’s body, keeping it as soft and welcoming as he could.

 

As he felt consciousness leave Sam, sending the unwell man into the first truly restful sleep he'd had since Gabriel had been brought to the bunker, he took a deep breath before slowly shifting the focus of the Grace that he had caused to sweep through Sam, searching for the true cause of what was going on.

 

Not even ten seconds later, he pulled his Grace away from Sam, fighting not to be sick.

 

His blood pressure was low, almost dangerously so, far below what it had been at not even ten minutes prior. That alone was more than enough to explain why Sam had seemed so out of it earlier. But more horrifying, Sam was incredibly dehydrated, and was showing signs of prolonged malnutrition. Even if Sam had completely stopped eating the moment that Dean had left, he wouldn't have been as small and almost fragile as he now looked. No, things had gotten this far over the length of months, if not years, of neglect on Sam's part.

 

But that raised a horrible question, one that needed to be answered, but the only one who held the answer was away in another dimension entirely.

 

How had Dean not stepped in to stop his brother from wasting away in front of him? Or, worse yet, had he not even noticed?

 

But there was something else there, something that had been buried deeply and forgotten about for years. Something so far down, Gabriel had almost missed it’s presence, and wasn’t sure if Sam even knew it was there. Grace, left behind after time spent as a vessel.

 

There was so much Grace, from at least three sources, so entwined amongst themselves that it was nearly impossible to determine the identities of all of them. At least one of them had to be Lucifer’s, that much was clear, but who could the other two be from? After all that had happened when Lucifer had possessed Sam, who would he trust enough to let in?

 

He had so many questions that couldn’t be answered, either because the one who could answer them wasn’t here, because he was unwilling for some reason, or because he was sleeping. All he could do was sit and wait for Sam to wake up, and that wouldn’t happen for at least eight hours.

 

“Oh Sam, how did things get this bad, Darling? Things were bad in those six months at Mystery Spot yeah, but it wouldn’t have led to this kind of result.”

 

Sam moved closer at the noise of his words, and Gabriel laughed, a quiet, broken sounding thing. “Kiddo, you and I have a lot to talk about when you wake up, and you don’t even know the half of it.”

* * *

 

Things slowly came into focus, but everything still held a haze that kept the world from being clear once more.

He was laying down, his head on top of something soft. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it was nice and warm, and he was just so cold all the time anymore, and wherever he was was just so  _ warm _ and-

“You starting to wake up there Kiddo? Or are you going to try for another hour or so?”

He fought to open his eyes, catching sight of a book carefully balanced on a knee before the weight of his exhaustion dragged his eyes closed again. “‘M tired.” He mumbled, yawning as he adjusted how he was laying on whatever his head was on top of.

A hand ran through his hair then, scratching softly at his scalp. “I bet, you were asleep for a good twelve hours there. Do you think you can drink some water, or some soup? You really need both, but either one would be just fine with me.”

Water did sound like a good idea. His mouth was dry, really dry, so something to wet it down with would be a good thing. His stomach couldn’t decide whether or not it was going to start rolling at the thought of anything inside it, so water would definitely be a good place to start. “Water?” Sam’s voice sounded weak even to his own ears. He just wanted to go back to sleep and sleep forever, with nothing to worry about ever again.

Sam didn’t even try reopening his eyes, but a few moments later what felt like a straw was placed in his mouth. It was a large straw, like the kind used when a person was not expected to have the airflow necessary to pull water through a small space. He thought maybe it should have embarrassed him, but as he drew refreshing fluid into his mouth and swallowed it with almost no effort, it was more a relief than anything else.

The straw was pulled away all too soon, the hand returning to scratch at his head again soon after. “There we are. Now, do you think you feel well enough to sit up for a little bit, or do you want to stay down there a little while longer?”

The options were so simple, with no repercussions should he decide for one over the other, but regardless of that knowledge, Sam wasn’t sure what he should choose, and as a sudden awareness swept over him, he found himself quickly engulfed in fears that he thought he had recovered from already.

The thoughts took up the entirety of his focus, disguised as questions, the way they always had been in the past. If he sat, would he be expected to stay awake until whoever was talking decided it was time for him to sleep again? If he stayed where he was, would he be free of expectations? Or were both choices tricks, and he would fall back into that place where he had no control over anything that happened, no matter how real it felt, or how hard he tried to escape? What if everything that had happened was just another story, spun at the hands of one who had stolen control away long ago, locking him away within his own mind as he used his body to commit crimes that otherwise would have never happened? Would he ever gain control again? Or was he doomed to forever be trapped in this strange place where things made just enough sense to keep him from thinking too hard about them, yet were just strange enough to be believed after everything that had happened in his life?

Some distant part of his mind knew that his thoughts were spiralling into dark places, places that he had fallen into before, and had barely escaped from, even with the help of his brother, but he couldn’t stop the steady fall, not when he knew that his brother wouldn’t care, even if he were there to know what was happening. He was the one that had led him into the situation that had made it harder than it already was to believe in reality in the first place.

There was a voice calling to him, but it sounded even further away than even the most distant reaches of his mind. Someone trying to convince  _ him _ to give up control? No, that wasn’t possible. No one cared enough to try and save him. Dean had caused it, Cas was chased away, and the only other person who had ever seemed to show even the slightest ounce of care for him was dead, and had been that way for years. He had seen the body, the wings burnt onto the ground, never to fade for all eternity.

With a shaky breath, he had to admit that this story was better than all the rest had been. It had been far more convincing, more captivating, more  _ real _ than any other had been, but it had given itself away as just another fiction.

Gabriel was dead. And even if he somehow did manage to escape death, there was no way he would care enough about him to try and help in any way, from something as simple as keeping him company while he slept, to creating food out of thin air, and how could he have thought for a moment he could trust even the little food he had eaten? This was Gabriel, it would have been more than easy for him to create the food to poison him, or to sap away the small awareness that he had left. He had never cared before, and there was no reason that he would care now, regardless of if this strange event was another fiction or a damning reality.

A dampness was growing beneath where his head was resting, and he distantly realized that he was crying, but what difference would it make if it was truth or not? The entire world may as well have begun to shatter all around him, and yet he took no notice of it, so trapped within his own thoughts and fears.

As his awareness faded away, he sent out a last desperate plea to a God he doubted would hear, doubted He would care, begging for some sign that things were indeed able to be trusted, either for their truth or their fiction, when he would awake next.

* * *

 

Gabriel was fighting not to panic, knowing that it would do no good for Sam and his far too fragile health. He had been awake not even five minutes before his mind had begun to drift down paths and thoughts far too dark and deep for him to even dare to dream of following.

But even as strong as Sam’s mental shields were, the illness that had swept over him had lowered them just enough for the occasional glimpse at the chaos within Sam’s mind to break through. And even just the brief glimpses were more than enough to paint a picture so painful, so damaging, that not for the first time, Gabriel was left wondering just how Sam managed to be anywhere as stable as he was.

From imagined maggots infesting food, and seeing endless violence wherever he turned that no one else ever seemed to notice, to being trapped within a world created within his head while some unknown made away with his body, it was horrifying to imagine what other trauma may be locked away within Sam’s head, hidden away where only he would have to suffer the results. It was no wonder the kid was so nervous all the time, and chose to sleep away the days, hidden away in dark corners where no one would bother to look for him. The less noticeable he was, the less likely it was that he would be hurt again. It was behavior that Gabriel had seen all too often in his time as the Trickster, and had been one of the primary ways he would find children that were in need of rescuing from bad situations.

Had he not decided to try and leave those days behind him, Dean would have grown to be very high on his list of people in need of just desserts.

As it was, he was upset at Dean for not noticing what had been happening with Sam for so long. Or if he had noticed, not doing anything to fix it. The state he was in was the product of years upon years of mistreatment and neglect, and most, if not all of the physical effects of Sam’s trauma could have easily been avoided had Dean just stopped to pay attention to what was happening to his brother.

He needed to know the full story of what had brought Sam to this point, especially if he was to help the human begin to recover, but Cas wasn’t willing to talk, and Sam was incapable of it. As a result, all he could hope to do was try to manage the symptoms, the lack of eating, the constant exhaustion, the dangerous dehydration, but he would forever be fighting a losing battle if Sam continued to carry all the pain by himself, completely overwhelmed by the weight of all that had been forced upon over the course of his all too long life.

“And that is why you are here, my son.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck is here to help! But Chuck's help is never as straightforward as one would like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter discusses the non-consensual possessing of Sam by Gadreel. And when Sam wakes up feeling better, his thoughts start to spiral when Gabriel stops him from drinking coffee, which would not help his already seriously dehydrated body.
> 
> I would like to mention that Sam will reach his darkest mental state in the next chapter and that I would like you all to be safe.
> 
> 90% of what remains of this story was written by Hyrule, including this chapter.

* * *

 

Gabriel looked up in shock, eyes widening as he took in the sight of his Father in front of him for the first time in countless eons. There was so much that he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask, but all his words died before they ever took form, all falling short before the relief of knowing that his Father was there, that He still cared enough to show Himself, even after all the time that had passed, after all the sins that he had committed in the name of justice. It took far longer than he would have liked, but he finally found the words to ask the question that was most important at that moment.

 

“Father, what must I do to help him? I once thought that all that was needed was for him to have someone there, but now I don’t know what to do, or how I can save him.”

 

He hated how weak his voice sounded, hated how after so long, his Father had only come once one of his favored humans was in need, but he knew better than to try and question his Father’s intent. To do so would not give him the answers to the doubts that had plagued him for so long, and would likely only result in him gaining his Father’s anger. And so he had kept his question to that of Sam’s wellbeing. He could be angry with his Father another time.

 

His Father smiled sadly then, reaching out a hand, resting it upon the top of Sam’s head. “He has fought many a battle, and come out of nearly all as the victor, yet even then he did not escape harm from each battle faced. Perhaps the worst of his battles has been the battle he faced against Lucifer, where he thought he had gained victory upon once more locking both Lucifer and Michael within the Cage, but that was only the beginning of what would be his greatest defeat. For though he saved the world, he could not save himself from falling after your wayward older brothers, where he suffered at their hands for millennia before he was rescued.”

 

If he had a heart, Gabriel was certain that it would have stopped at that knowledge. He had known that there had been a great cost for Sam to trap Lucifer back in his prison, but for the human to have fallen in as well?

 

But his Father was not done speaking yet. “Worse yet, all control of his sense of self, along with his perception of reality itself has been tamper with, stolen away from him by one of your younger brothers, as a result of a betrayal from his brother. That is likely the single event that caused him to decide that he deserves all that has happened to him. If it is indeed your wish to help him heal, you are in for a very long battle.”

 

Gabriel nodded, taking a deep breath to calm himself before speaking. “I am ready and willing to accept whatever may come in order to help him. He’s been through far more than enough without anyone to help him through for one reason or another. He needs help, no matter where it comes from. And if no one else is willing to do it, then I will.”

 

His Father was watching him closely, but Gabriel wasn’t backing down any time soon. He was determined to allow Sam to recover, with or without his Father’s Blessing on the matter.

 

Several long moments passed, with only Sam’s soft breathing to keep the silence from becoming oppressive, until his Father finally nodded softly. His eyes closed as His Grace began to flow into Sam, aiding and sustaining the human as he lay sleeping. “I wish you all the best upon the journey to the end of your mission, my son. As such, I grant you a gift. Though his road may be long, his inaction will not turn fatal. My gift to you is this: until the days when he is truly ready to rest in Heaven for all eternity, his body shall not wither and fade, and no mistreatment by his own hand shall cause any more harm than has been dealt to bring him to this state.”

 

Knowing that his Father was finished, Gabriel bowed his head, struggling to keep himself under control. He had known fully well what was happening to Sam, and yet He had done nothing. But there was nothing that he could do, regardless of his more than justified anger towards his Father. All that would happen would be a punishment for him, and likely one that would take him away from the one he had just sworn to protect and heal.

 

All those thoughts and reminders running through his head at nearly a lightyear a minute, he managed to force out a mostly grateful “Thank you,” to the Father that left all too quickly, both back then and now, as He was gone even before he was finished speaking.

 

With a heavy sigh, Gabriel carefully adjusted how he was sitting, taking extra caution not to disturb Sam where he was resting. His very being ached at just the most basic of knowledge of what the human had suffered through, the vast majority of it caused directly by his family. He was disgusted, especially in regards to his eldest brothers. He had known that they both held contempt for humans, but to cause so much damage to one just for daring to defy the destiny that had been laid out for him by those who wished to destroy the world? It was sickening, and he was ashamed to be in any way related to either of the two of them in any way.

 

Sam shuddered, from the fever or from a nightmare, Gabriel was uncertain, but regardless, he conjured another blanket, soft and warm, and laid it over the slumbering human. There was no reason for him to leave Sam to feel cold when he could help, especially after all that the man had been through. He was more than deserving of a little softness and warmth from a blanket, and Gabriel would do whatever was needed to give Sam exactly what he deserved, no matter what the situation.

 

He smiled softly as Sam shifted slightly in an attempt to get more comfortable, before he settled again, looking peaceful as a kitten. When he reached out to scratch at Sam’s scalp once more, he had to fight not to laugh when the kid practically started purring under his touch. “Kiddo, if you don’t stop being so damn cute, you might just find yourself with a new nickname. One you might just actually fight against, but you know what? I don’t think you’ll really mind too much. Just like that other nickname of yours, isn’t that right, Sammy? Or maybe I should just start using that new nickname I’ve got for you.”

 

Listening to Sam breathe for several more minutes, Gabriel’s smile slowly fell. There was a lot he needed to do before Sam would wake again, and he wasn’t sure how long he had to do it all. He already had Castiel working through the rest of the bunker, putting away weapons and anything else that Sam may try to harm himself with, but there was much that he needed to do on his own. Like the giant stack of books to his side, stacked precariously, and barely keeping from toppling over on top of him and Sam.

 

Leaning his head back to bonk against the wall, he groaned softly before reaching for the book he had been reading before Sam had woken up. While the theorized causes and effects of severe childhood depression made for rather interesting reading, it wasn’t anything that would keep his attention for too long. But it was important, and he was willing to do whatever it took to help Sam, so he opened to the page he had left off on, and began to read.

* * *

 

When Sam awoke the next time, he felt different. Within moments of becoming aware of himself, he was alert, almost as if his head was clear of the haze that had been over it for the first time in months, if not years. He was alone, under the table in the library, with several water bottles laying on their sides next to him, and a large stack of books just out of his reach from where he was laying.

 

Slowly sitting up, he opened one of the water bottles, careful not to spill any as he drank more than half of it in one giant gulp. Once he had drunk enough, his curiosity got the better of him, and he reached over to grab one of the books, only to frown when he realized it was written in Enochian. He could understand a little bit of it, if he tried to read slowly, and only a little at a time, but if he wasn’t careful…..

 

Opening up to a random page, he tried to begin reading. ‘After mental illness, people can have severe trauma such as sex information to close a car or someone else who is sustainable. Can stop ideas and concerns about the feelings of the sun, and physical and psychological problems and threats be a mystery that people think, face, develop or act on the plane-’ he closed the book rather quickly however, throwing it back to where the other books were.

 

At best, it was like trying to read something that had been sent through Google Translate over thirty times without any breaks, and at worst it was barely understandable. At least he was able to get a basic grasp of what the paragraph was about, that was more than he was able to get most times he tried. It seemed that the book had something to do with mental illness, but what it’s contents were beyond that escaped him. He supposed he could always try to add more, but too much of the jumbled mess of words would give him a headache, and he wasn’t in the mood to try and read something the size of a textbook today anyway.

 

He was still somewhat thirsty, but he didn’t want more water. There wasn’t a lot of food in the bunker without Dean there to go shopping, but there was always an abundance of coffee, so crawling out of the fort, he left the safety and warmth of the library in search of something highly caffeinated.

 

The winding halls of the bunker were almost completely silent, making the entire structure seem more oppressive than it usually did. Dean would often play music loudly, the noise echoing through the halls, or he would be in the kitchen cooking something, the scents drifting through the antiquated air conditioning units. But Dean wasn’t there anymore, and hadn’t been for weeks. And as the days dragged on, and time continued to pass, the life and warmth that Dean had provided had faded away, until Sam honestly couldn’t remember some days if he was in a place that was supposed to be his home, or trapped in a prison that he hadn’t been aware of.

 

But he tried his hardest to ignore those thoughts. There was no point in trying to figure those things out until Dean was back to prove what was truth.

 

The light in the kitchen was on, and for a fleeting moment, he thought that maybe, just maybe, Dean may have returned, even if just for a shower or some food, but the moment he reached the entryway, his admittedly fragile hopes were crushed. It was just Cas and Gabe, sitting at the table and talking quietly amongst themselves.

 

It didn’t take but a moment for the pair to notice that he was standing there, and within an instant they were both crowding around him, and almost before he could blink, he found himself being sat in a chair, with both Cas and Gabe fussing over him. It irritated him quickly, and he batted their hands away, not really bothering to hold his strength back, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hurt them. “Guys, just stop. I’m fine, I’m even feeling a lot better, so you can stop trying to mother hen me to death already.”

 

Apparently, that was the entirely wrong thing to say, as Gabriel’s expression shifted from worry to something far more serious than he had ever seen it. “Sam, yesterday you had a fever so high, if it hadn’t broken when it did, you easily could have died, either from severe dehydration as your body tried its hardest to try to normalize itself, or because your cells would all begin to die off from overheating beyond anything they were able to cope with. You may be feeling better, but you are nowhere near healthy, and you are absolutely not ‘fine’, regardless of how you may feel compared to yesterday.”

 

Sam frowned, not quite believing Gabriel. He had been on the brink of death more times than he could remember, and had even died in the past, and he knew exactly how it felt to try to recover from those sort of things. How he felt now was nothing like how he had felt whenever he would have to recover, especially so soon after the events. Standing from the chair he had been sitting on, he pushed his way past both of the angels, walking over to the counter where the coffee maker was set up.

 

As he opened the cabinet to pull out a mug, he was startled when Gabriel appeared as if out of nowhere, slamming the door closed. “No. I don’t care if you believe me or not, but you are not getting any coffee anytime soon. No alcohol either, for that matter. You’re seriously dehydrated, and you are _not_ going to be making matters worse by loading up on drinks that will only dehydrate you further.”

 

Sam stared at the archangel for a moment, anger slowly growing stronger and stronger as he stood there. He was a grown man for God’s sake! He was more than capable of making his own decisions about what he wanted to drink, and right now he wanted coffee, but he wasn’t willing to try and fight an angel, and especially not an archangel. Not over something as simple as coffee.

 

Deciding to try to sneak some coffee when no one was watching him, he fought to bury the anger behind a mask of compliance, the same way that he had when he was a teen, and he would get into fights with his dad. “Fine. In that case, what am I allowed to have, or am I only allowed to have water, like a kid who didn’t get a good grade on yesterday’s math test?”

 

His words had to have come out far more angry than he had intended though, because Gabriel took a step back, startled at the words. “Kid, I- I’m just trying to make sure you’re ok.”

 

Maybe if he weren’t already so upset, he would’ve been willing to listen to Gabe. But he was just so tired of everyone thinking that they knew what was best for him, even though they all knew that he was more than capable of making those decisions for himself, and had been for years. He just wanted to get away from them. He knew that he couldn’t leave, there wasn’t anywhere for him to go even if he did try to leave, but he at least wanted to have some privacy for a few hours. Maybe if he wasn’t constantly being watched, he could prove to them that he was able to take care of himself without their help.

 

With his mind made up, Sam pushed past Gabriel, walking out of the kitchen and down the hall. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the main areas of the bunker, and he didn’t want to go back to the library. That would be too easy for them to find him.

 

Pausing for a moment, Sam realized that he already knew where he would need to go, where neither Castiel or Gabriel would ever think to look for him. Turning down the familiar pathways that he had abandoned months ago, he opened the door to the bedroom that he had claimed when he and Dean had first moved into the bunker.

 

He had almost forgotten how empty the room truly was, with next to no personal items that would mark it as anyone’s specific room, rather than just a spare bedroom that was kept ready for anyone to come visit. But as he closed and locked the door, the things that set the room apart from any other was made more than clear. Hundreds upon hundreds of wards and sigils, all intertwined and connected over the entirety of the room’s walls, all glowing softly as they activated. In just a moment, the glow faded, leaving the room looking exactly the same as it had moments before.

 

Sam could still feel the wards on the walls. It was almost like hearing the electricity buzzing through a lightbulb, but quieter. He liked Cas and Gabe, but being alone in this room, listening to the wards as they blocked out all outside influence, he felt safe in a way he hadn’t for a long time. Dean might have thought to look for him here, but Dean wasn’t here and it had been months since he’d stepped foot in here. He finally felt like he could think clearly, without any interference.

 

Walking over to the bed, he sat down on it, sighing heavily. Even after so long of sleeping in various air vents or on the floor in the library and other secluded areas where Dean would never think to find him, the bed was still uncomfortable, lacking in extra comfort the way that Dean’s fancy memory foam monstrosity had.

 

As a sudden wave of exhaustion fell over him, Sam laid down, trying his hardest to stay calm and not start to panic. Dean wasn’t there, and even if he were there, he wasn’t a demon anymore, and wouldn’t even try to find him. His wards were all active, keeping Gabriel and Castiel out of his room, keeping him safe from them should they decide that they didn’t want to baby him anymore, and figured the best way to deal with him would be to try and fight him the same way that John had fought to control him.

 

His phone kept vibrating, as someone kept sending him texts and trying to call him, but he couldn’t care less. He silenced his phone, setting it on the nightstand. He would deal with everything after a nap. Everything was just all becoming too much for him to handle, and with all the emotions that had been rampant through the bunker, he just wanted to sleep and forget everything. And so he did.

* * *

 

Gabriel was tense. Yes, his Father’s gift meant that nothing would happen to Sam that would be permanent, but that didn't mean that he wanted anything to happen to him. As it was, not even five minutes after Sam had left the kitchen, his entire presence had vanished from the bunker, hidden in a small area of complete void. He understood what had happened, that somehow Sam had found a way to hide his room completely, to the point that it was likely that God Himself may be the only one who would still be able to find the room once all the warding was active, if you didn’t already know the room was there, and had felt it vanishing.

 

Castiel had confirmed that it was a fairly commonplace occurrence, with Sam hiding away in a room that was entirely undetectable to any who did not already know it was there, but even that just made him even more concerned. The bunker was supposed to be safe from everything, hell, it was even solid enough to withstand a nuke going off right on top of it, so why would Sam feel the need to hide away even more?

 

He wanted to go to Sam, to ask him when things had gotten so bad, what had happened to him to cause such panic and paranoia, but he didn’t want to potentially scare the kid even more, if the warding would even allow him in anyway. But even so, his nerves were nearly out of control, especially as he would have no way of knowing if anything were to happen to Sam while he was locked away in his room.

 

Walking back to the library where he had found Sam sleeping not even three days ago, Gabe stared at the stack of books that he had left next to the table. One of them had been moved, and only Sam would have been in the immediate vicinity to move it. And just his luck, it was the book on Post Traumatic Stress, its causes, symptoms, and its treatments. He wasn’t sure if Sam was able to read it, or if he was, how much of it he was able to understand.

 

Enochian was an ancient beast of a language, and a lot of it didn’t translate into shorthand well, and that was basically all he used. And that was before he even began to get into the variations due to the region, terms being used for entirely different meanings among the different divisions and garrisons, or the fact that the archangels used a vastly different form of the language than the more standard angels used. It was almost like the difference between Latin and Spanish, or Ancient Greek and Modern Greek. There were multiple words that they had in common, and the grammatical structure may be similar, if not the same, but you couldn’t learn one and say you knew the other. It just didn’t happen.

 

Sam totally tried to read it though. There was no way he didn’t, the kid was too much of a nerd to leave it be.

 

Rolling his eyes at Sam’s almost single-minded search for knowledge, Gabriel started to tidy up the stack of books that were nearly falling over. If Sam wanted to read the books he could, but there were several in the stack that would do more harm than good should Sam try to read them.

 

The books on the construction of The Cage, and the effects it was intended to cause upon any who entered, for example, would cause vastly more harm than good, and would need to remain firmly out of Sam’s reach until he was ready to face those particular demons.

 

Sending the books that he knew right away wouldn’t be safe for Sam to read to his personal room with a snap of his fingers, Gabriel fell back to lay on top of the pile of pillows that had managed to find their way into the corner under the table. He knew Sam had hidden because he wanted space. He knew all too well how it felt to need space away from everyone when it seemed your world was falling apart, but at the same time, he also knew that deep down, he had just wanted someone to ask how he was feeling, and to just sit and listen.

 

Pulling out his phone, he began to send Sam multiple text messages.

 

**10:23 - Gabe:** _hey kiddo_

 

**10:23 - Gabe:** _i don’t know if you’re getting these_

 

**10:23 - Gabe:** _or if you even care really, i mean i’ve done enough to you in the past, why would you wanna listen to me, am i right?_

 

**10:24 - Gabe:** _but i just wanna let you know that i’m here for you if you ever wanna takl_

 

**10:24 - Gabe:** _*talk_

 

**10:25 - Gabe:** _i know, you’re a pretty big mess right now, and i have no real right to try and tell you how to make things better_

 

**10:25 - Gabe:** _and to be entirely honest, i'm probably just as big of a mess_

 

**10:25 - Gabe:** _but i really do care about you sam_

 

**10:25 - Gabe:** _even tho you sleep all the time_

 

**10:26 - Gabe:** _……._

 

**10:27 - Gabe:** _you're probably sleeping right now aren't you_

 

**10:27 - Gabe:** _i guess i'll leave you to it then. just think about it, ok? let me know when you wake up, and we can try to talk. i don't care about what, but we’re living together, so we should probably talk at least some of the time_

 

Putting his phone away before he could do any more potential damage to his already rather fragile image of a smooth trickster, Gabriel grabbed the book he had been reading earlier, wanting to have at least one plan of action should Sam decide he wants to talk about how things had gotten as bad as they were.

 

This Spoon Theory thing…. It wasn’t a half bad idea. And with just a little modification, he might just be able to make it work for what he needed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam hides away in his room, and he has a long awaited conversation with Gabriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some of the darkest parts of this fic.
> 
> This chapter contains thoughts of suicide, thoughts of self harm, depression, as well as a discussion of what Heaven thinks of suicide that has been marked within the story. Please take care of yourself and turn back if these are not safe for your consumption.

Sam’s phone was blinking, on and off and on and off and he was sick of it.

 

He didn’t care who was texting him, because no matter how much he wished for it, it wouldn’t be the one person he wanted to hear from, and he just couldn’t be bothered to check it for any reason. It’s not like anyone but Cas and Dean ever texted him anymore, and Dean was gone and Cas barely cared unless he was worried about Dean, and Gabriel wouldn’t know his number, so there was no point. It was probably just a wrong number, or a notification from an app, or a spam caller anyway.

 

Now that he thought about it, Dean only ever texted or called when they were on cases, or if he was at the store and wanted to know if Sam wanted anything not already on the list, or to check if they had milk, because he couldn’t remember, and Cas only ever called if Dean didn’t pick up the first time. Everyone else just called Dean.

 

Just Dean.

 

No one ever wanted to talk to the broken brother, the one that had fought the hardest and was still fighting but was starting to fail, the one who had lost his mind more times than anyone was ever supposed to, the one who was perpetually the one to fail at all his plans.

 

Rationally, he knew that he should at least check and make sure it wasn’t anything important, like something saying that one of the few friends that he and Dean had left was hurt somewhere, or that someone was on a hunt in the area and wanted to crash for a bit in the Bunker, but the nightstand was just so far away, and the phone was only so sturdy, and he knew he would drop it because he’s not capable of even doing something as simple as holding a phone for the two seconds it would take for him to bring it over the bed where it would be safe if it fell, and he was being completely useless to everyone, and he knew it.

 

No wonder he was all alone, no one would want to spend any time with someone so useless and stupid and broken and-

 

There was a knock at the door, and the muffled sound of people talking. He wasn’t able to catch a lot of it, but there was something about someone being worried, and needing to find a way in to somewhere, and not knowing if someone was ok, and shame began to flood through him. Of course Cas would show up. Dean had made him swear to take care of Sam if he wasn’t there to do it himself, and Sam had to go and ruin it and run to his room to sit and mope and feel miserable for himself, and it was just more proof that he was useless and nothing but a burden, and he deserved to be alone, where no one could find him ever again. He deserved for everyone to forget about him, and stop caring, because there was no need for anyone to care about him anymore.

 

Somewhere deep inside himself, he knew that if he wasn’t careful, and didn’t change soon, he would likely end up killing himself through sheer neglect.

 

There was a part of him that either welcomed it, or just didn’t care.

 

His phone lit up then, and a voice came through the speaker, matching up with one of the voices outside the door.

 

“Alright Sam, before you get your panties in a twist over me using my grace for this, I need to ask you a few questions, is that alright?”

 

Gabriel? But why would he-

 

“First off, I feel the need to let you know that it’s almost midnight, and we’re getting pretty worried, because you’ve been in there all day, Kiddo. But beyond that, I really need to ask a few questions, so I will need some audience participation. First question, do you have anything to eat or drink in there with you?”

 

Why would he care? What did it matter if he had food, it wasn’t like he was worthy of anything like someone caring about if he had what everyone else did.

 

Finally, he was able to whisper softly, breathing out a barely there, “No”.

 

There was a soft noise, almost like a sigh, before Gabriel was asking another question.

 

“Alright. Question two. Is there anything in there with you that is capable of hurting you, or that is currently hurting you?”

 

He scoffed, mumbling something incoherent for Gabriel’s sake. Is there anything in the room that could hurt him, what a joke. It would be easier to list out the things in the room that weren’t able to hurt him, whether by his own hand or by another’s. Hell, he had used similar objects to kill monsters for most his life.

 

A clear sigh came from Gabriel  then, before he was speaking once more.

 

“I really don’t want to have to ask this question, and I know that it’s going to be a hard one for you to answer, but I need you to be honest Sam. Can you do that for me?”

 

“.....I guess.”

 

“Sam, are you currently considering harming yourself or others, or attempting to harm yourself?”

 

Sam sat up quickly, ready to shout at Gabriel, before he paused. He had struggled with thoughts along the lines of the ones he’d had earlier for a long time, a prime example being shortly after he had left for Stanford. When he had met Jess in his second week, and they had begun being friends, she had urged him to see a counselor, and eventually therapy, and at the time, he had.

 

And every single person he had shared those thoughts with had told him that thoughts of that nature were harmful, and could lead to self-harm, or even attempted suicide.

 

He had been able to cope at the time because he’d had a strong support system, as well as having a therapist he had seen regularly. But everything had gone downhill when Jess died, and he had been dragged away on a hunt for the yellow-eyed demon.

 

Dean had tried to be supportive, but he hadn’t known how, and had eventually given up on trying, lost on how to help and dealing with his own emotional constipation. And no one else had ever really cared enough to ask. Bobby might have, but he was dead and gone so it didn't matter. Ellen and Jo had been like family too, until hellhounds had taken them away. What would they say if they were still around? Ellen would tell him to stop sulking and bust his butt about it. And Jo would have liked Charlie so much. Would Charlie have asked Jo out? It didn't matter. It was just more deaths he was responsible for.

 

“.... Sam? Can you still hear me? I know this is hard, but I'm worried about you. Are you uninjured?”

 

Sam stared at the ceiling. Did feeling like he'd stabbed himself in the heart while wanting to simultaneously rip it out of his chest count as injured? Every heartbeat felt like it was going to force his heart from his chest and there were times where he couldn't take a single breath for granted. _His friends were dead and there were moments that he wanted nothing more than to join them, even if suicide was the cardinal Catholic Sin. And the demon blood damned him to an eternity of torture. Intentions didn't matter. He'd end up in hell anyway, his list of sins was a mile long._

 

“Yes…” Sam whispered eventually. It was honest, even as it came out in more of a whimper. His friends were dead and he didn't even notice as sobs wrought themselves from his emaciated form.

 

“Sam? …. Samalam. Can you let me in, please? I don't want you to hurt yourself. I just want to help.”

 

Sam could barely hear the continuous stream of gentle nicknames and the single request over the roaring in his ears. It was almost begging, even. Why did Gabriel care enough to resort to begging? Gabriel was a fucking archangel and he was nothing more than manure on a shoe. Why did the archangel care about such a broken thing as he?

 

With strength he didn't know he had, he eventually found his way to the door. His hands and knees burned as though he had crawled. His hand wrapped around the handle and it was all he could do to make it turn, thus breaking the seal of the door.

 

The door creaked towards him, but not by his own strength.

 

“Oh, Kiddo,” the ancient being whispered as he pulled the hunter into his arms to keep him from collapsing. Despite the small size of his vessel, there was no mistaking the immortal strength behind it. “Let it all out, that’s it, Sam, let it go.”

 

They had so much to talk about, but clearly it would have to wait. Right now he needed to make sure that Sam would be safe, even from himself.

After getting Sam something to drink, as well as something to eat, and getting him back to the library so he could sleep, Gabriel tasked Castiel with watching over Sam and then he left to walk through the bunker, wanting nothing more than to find somewhere that was quiet where he could sit and process things.

 

He had known that Sam was suffering. Anyone who looked at the kid for more than three seconds would be able to see it. And with how much time he and Dean typically spent together, how the hell had he not noticed? And if Dean had noticed, why hadn’t he tried to do anything to help? It just wasn’t right, he should’ve at least tried, but all evidence had pointed to Dean doing nothing, which would very easily explain why things had gotten as bad as they had for Sam.

 

With no support system in sight, the kid was set for a major crash, and Gabriel was just thankful that it hadn’t led to Sam hurting himself, or worse. Father’s blessing be damned, if Sam truly wanted to kill himself, then there was no force within either Heaven or Earth that would have been able to stop him.

 

Opening a door that led into a storage room filled with all manner of magical objects, Gabriel thought back to the ‘conversation’ that he’d had with Sam, after having been barely able to slip a small amount of grace along the cell waves to ensure that the phone would pick up so that communication could be established. Sam had been so out of it, especially at the end, that he had been mumbling softly through nearly the entire call, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was doing so.

 

And damn, did the kid have some serious guilt on his shoulders.

 

He actively blamed himself for the death of everyone that he hadn’t been able to protect, regardless of circumstance. Hell, it was pretty likely that he still blamed himself for Mama Mary having been killed, even after she had been brought back to life. It was complete bullshit, but Gabriel couldn’t blame Sam for taking on so much guilt, especially after having been out of the game for so long.

 

He had looked in on the kid during the Apocalypse after all, he had seen just how much guilt and responsibility had been dumped on him through all of it, but he hadn’t been able to do anything about it. And by the time he had realized how to help the kid, it was too late, and he had needed to fake his death to get away from Lucifer.

 

As he continued to think about all the crap that had been piled on Sam over the years, Gabriel stumbled over his own feet, his breathing picking up as he barely managed to sink into a chair.

 

So much of what had happened to Sam could be directly linked right back to Gabriel in one way or another.

 

Just look at the apocalypse, if he had tried harder, looked for another way, he may have been able to stop Michael from throwing Lucifer into the cage, gotten them to make up and be brothers again, and then none of what happened to Sam during the apocalypse would have ever happened.

 

Actually, it was likely that nothing would have ever happened to Sam at all.

 

Sam would have been a normal kid, with a normal family, and normal dreams and goals and wants and he would have had a normal life, and never would have had to suffer anything close to what he had during his time in the cage. And maybe, in that other life, Sam could have been happy.

 

But no. Gabriel had to run away and ruin everything, and not only that, he had directly caused Sam far more pain than the kid ever deserved, by killing his brother more times than he could remember, by trapping him and his brother in an isolated reality bubble, with escape only being granted after they essentially swore to kill themselves so that Michael and Lucifer could have their hissy fit and destroy the world, and then to top it off, right when he and Sam could have had a chance at something, something they had both wanted, he had abandoned him, and-

 

Taking a deep breath, Gabriel counted to ten slowly before releasing it.

 

He had screwed up in the past. He knew it. But there was no changing what had happened, and there was no point to dwelling on such thoughts for so long. He was trying to recover from everything so he could help Sam, not hurl himself at a roadblock so fast and hard that it would take weeks to cope.

 

No, this was the type of thing that needed to be taken slowly, as he had the mental strength to be able to handle it. Hell, he would probably need to take things slower than usual, if only to show Sam what real healing and recovery from trauma was supposed to look like.

 

After a few more deep breaths to make sure that he would be alright to try and talk to Sam, who he could feel stirring in his sleep, he flew towards the library, hoping he would be ready for anything that would come next.

* * *

 

**(AN/ TW: uncertainty as to reality, trippy narration, and discussion of what heaven thinks of suicide)**

  


Sitting in the library, watching some documentary about ocean life on Netflix with Cas, Sam felt almost sick.

 

How many times had he been in this exact same scenario, only to find out hours, if not days later, that it was just an illusion, crafted by one who had stolen away his body and mind from him, leaving him helpless should anything happen? How many times had he prayed to any being that would listen, begging for there to be something, anything, that would let him know if what he was seeing and feeling was real, or if it was all just another falsehood, only for there to never be anything to show him, leaving him lost to his fears and doubts until the eventual collapse of everything around him, proving his fears one way or another?

 

It had gotten to the point where he could never be sure of anything anymore, and how could he?

 

When reality itself is so unrealistic you would expect it to be nothing but a dream, and the dreams are so realistic you would think them to be reality, how was anyone supposed to be able to tell the difference?

 

Gabriel had said that he wanted to help, but then he had sent Sam away, telling him to sleep before anything else was to happen, leaving more than enough room for things to change again, shifting from one dream to another to another, until he was so caught up in dreams that he wouldn’t be able to tell the lie from the truth, until it was all torn away again and he was thrown right into the middle of the next disaster that he had no chance of stopping, but the whole world would depend upon him to stop it anyway.

 

He had tried to explain it to Dean once, in one of the few moments in recent years that he was actually sure of reality, tried to explain just how unsure of anything and everything anymore, but Dean had only promised that it would be ok soon, and that he would take care of things.

 

Three days later he had walked into the bunker with a mark that would eventually turn him into a demon.

 

So much had happened since then. So much that he couldn’t be sure of, so much that he was terrified was just a dream or a manipulation that only he was aware of, and as things only became more and more unrealistic and uncertain, none of those fears were eased in any way.

 

There were days that he wasn’t sure if he was still being forced to share his meatsuit with an unseen, unknown passenger. Those days were scarry.

 

And then there were days that he wasn’t sure if he had ever even been rescued from the cage, and he was just locked away in a construct of Lucifer or Michael’s making, lost among the twists and turns until they eventually would decide that the game had gotten boring, and broke it apart to torment him more.

 

Those days were more horrifying than anything he would ever face, either in this life or the next.

 

Hell, the only thing he had really been sure about in the last year and a half was Chuck’s presence in the bunker. He had even gone as far as to sit down with Sam and explain that nothing in the world would be able to falsify His presence, and for the few days that He was there, Sam had felt more stable, more sure of himself and everything around him, than he had in years.

 

But then even God Himself had left him, and even that assurance had now fallen flat in the face of everything that had happened. The Nephilim of old were abominations, so in what world would Lucifer ever have one of his own? And why would any being allow it to live, when supposedly even God had decreed that they were too dangerous, too cruel, too evil to tolerate their very existence?

 

Every single piece of lore had been so damn specific, and yet Jack managed to abandon all of it, leaving a confusing mess of angel and human behind, so it seemed fairly obvious that Jack would be part of a dream.

 

But at the same time, that was what he had thought when Dean had turned into-

 

“Hey Sammy, do you think you can focus for a little bit? I need to talk with you about something pretty important.”

 

Blinking in confusion, Sam turned to look at Gabriel. He hadn’t even realized that the archangel was there until he had spoken his name, so how was he supposed to know if anything shifted suddenly enough that it would give away the dream?

 

“Yeah? What do you want to talk about?” He asked, hating how badly his voice was shaking. He couldn’t let whatever was running the dream know he knew it was a dream, or they would just make one that was harder to detect.

 

“Alright kiddo, I know that it probably isn’t my place to say anything, but big brother isn’t here, and Cas is terrible at these types of things, so it falls to me.” Gabriel started, reaching out and grabbing one of Sam’s hands. “In the time I’ve been here in the bunker with you, I’ve noticed some things. Some good, some bad, and some that were in between. And I know that it’s gonna suck, but we really need to talk about some of the bad stuff. Do you think that we can put aside all the crap and talk about it for a while, and be honest about things?”

 

Sam watched Gabriel closely, trying to catch any trace of falsehood or deception in his eyes, hating that he had to be so cautious, yet afraid of what might sneak up from out of nowhere if he wasn’t. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded softly, not daring to speak for fear of his voice failing him even more than it already had.

 

Gabriel seemed to sigh, before he started to talk again. “Ok. I’m not entirely sure how to say any of this, so just bear with me, alright? And I also want you to keep in mind that while I’m gonna say things that you really won’t like, I’m not saying them to try and attack you. I’m saying them because I care about you, and I don’t want anything to happen to you as a result of any of the things I’ve seen, alright?”

 

Before Sam had any hope of trying to steady his voice enough to ask what Gabriel was talking about, the archangel in question was already talking.

 

“Sam, I’ve known you for years. And without trying to sound cruel, you are not the man that I became friends with. Part of that is the passage of time, and I realize that. Nothing stops time in her march towards the future, not even archangels. We can delay it’s coming to our eyes by walking between one instant and the next, or stall it by slowing it’s passing, but in the end, it will always pass. That is a fact that all beings upon the earth must admit to. But the changes that I have seen in you in the last few weeks haven’t just been due to time. bA person can learn and grow through the passing of years. They can develop from children into teenagers, and from teenagers into adults, and from adults into elders, who eventually die. Sometimes a life is cut short, and it is always a tragedy whenever such a thing happens, especially when it is brought about by the person not seeing any other way to carry on.”

 

Sam was confused. Everything he had ever known had said that every being of heaven hated those who took their own lives, but now Gabriel was trying to tell him differently. “But I thought that suicide was the Cardinal Sin? That there was no hope for redemption for one who took the greatest gift that your Dad could ever give, and threw it away?” He knew that the topic was likely one that Gabriel hadn’t meant to talk about, but he still had to know.

 

Gabriel merely sighed, shaking his head as he did. “No, that’s not quite true, no matter what any old guy in a shiny white robe might tell you. If you killed yourself because you didn’t want to have to deal with the consequences for your actions, then yeah, there’s gonna be some punishment waiting for you. But for a kid that was abused their whole life, and had no hope, or for someone who knows that living will only bring them endless suffering, such as being sold into slavery, there is nothing but compassion and healing that awaits them.”

 

“So, it’s more about intent than the act itself?” Sam asked, desperate to understand.

 

Gabe was quiet for a moment, before shrugging. “That’s one way to put it. Whenever someone does cut their lives short, there is an angel that is assigned to look over their lives, and see what drove them to do such a thing, the same as a jury will look to determine if someone was acting in self defense in a trial. It doesn’t make the situation any better, but it gives us a better understanding of why, and that’s what’s important when it comes to things like that, especially among younger people.” He paused, before looking right at Sam for a moment. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you derailing the topic there Sam. We still have a lot to talk about.”

**(Warning over)**

* * *

 

Sam blushed slightly, looking away. “I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, looking for any words that would let him explain himself. “I was just curious.”

“And I understand that Sam, but if we keep chasing rabbits at every other sentence, then we’ll never get anywhere.” Gabriel’s words were gently, but Sam still felt bad for what he had unintentionally done. “If you really want to know more about something, then by all means, ask questions. But if it’s something that can wait until later, then ask about it later, alright?”

Sam nodded softly, still blushing softly. “Sorry. Jess and I talked about this stuff a lot around the time we got together, especially after a bunch of students from other schools nearby all went missing, and that was the suspected cause.”

Gabriel smiled, before tightening the grip he had on Sam’s hand, making his heart skip a beat. “It’s alright Sam, there’s no need for you to apologize. But as I was saying, people change. But some of the changes I’ve seen in you really have me concerned.”

Still trying to get his heart and breathing under control, Sam frowned. “What do you mean? I haven’t really changed that much, have I?”

Sighing, Gabriel looked at him with more seriousness than he had for anything within the few weeks he had been in the bunker. “Sam, please don’t take this the wrong way, I truly do only mean the best, and want the best for you, but you really have, and almost none of it has been purely positive.”

Sam was ready to shout, to argue, to do anything to try and give Gabriel examples, but he was already talking again.

“Sammy, how can you not see that you’ve lost so much weight that it’s honestly terrifying? That you are so lost within your dark thoughts that the only hope for refuge that you have is within the realm of sleep? Can you really not see that you sleep so much on a daily basis, that you don’t eat, you don’t drink, you don’t do anything to care for yourself beyond the bare minimum?”

“But I do! Gabe, I eat, I drink water, I go on runs, and I sleep just fine! I’m fine, and you know it!”

Sam almost couldn’t believe his own words, but he had to try anyway. He needed to let him know, needed to convince him, he was fine, he really was, wasn’t he?

“Sam, this week alone, the only time I have seen you eat is when I have made you food, and made you eat. You sleep for over sixteen hours a day, and that’s on a day that you don’t sleep a lot. There is so little that you are doing, you have a full on lumberjack beard. I know you, and I know that you hate how too much scruff feels. Not only that, but when was the last time you went shopping? There’s no food in the cupboards, or the fridge. I’m not trying to attack you, or try to say that you don’t care, but this is something that scares me, because if things don’t change, and soon, then it can start to do a lot more damage than you could imagine, and not all of it would be reversible.”

Sam was actually starting to get mad now. How dare he. How dare he come into the one place he actually felt safe anymore, and start accusing him of not caring about his own health and safety.

“Why do you care?! So I’ve lost a few pounds, or I’ve got a beard now, who cares? I’ve been fine before, and I’ll be fine now!” He tried to yank his hand out of Gabriel’s grasp, but the archangel wasn’t letting go, and he was slowly starting to panic. His anxiety was building, telling him over and over that this was it, this was how he was going to find out exactly what Gabriel would do if Sam made him upset enough.

“Sammy, I know that you’re scared. I know that you want to be ok, and I know that things have happened that are entirely out of your control, and it’s more than enough to throw anyone for a loop or ten. And I also know that because of how you were raised, there was more than enough that would be able to make anyone have a difficult life. But I also know this about you,” Gabriel paused for a moment, taking a breath to gather his thoughts before continuing on. “You are a fighter, both when it comes to fighting for your life, and fighting for what you believe in. But over time, maybe more so in the last few years, something, or maybe a lot of things, has happened, and it’s made you terrified to stop fighting for even a second, or else something could happen. I don’t know what it is that you’re afraid of, and Cas isn’t saying anything either, but whatever it was, it’s not something that you’re moving past, and it’s scaring me. I don’t want to see anything happen to you, either by your own doing, or because you got hurt on a hunt because you were distracted, but right now, I’m terrified that that’s how things are going to end up, because there’s no way that what’s happening right now is recovery in any sense of the word.”

“So what do you want? Do you want me to just tell you every damning detail of my life, and leave nothing to myself? Do you want me to put on a mask and pretend everything’s ok, like I have to do literally every day anyway? Or do you just want me to give up, and let someone else run my life, because I’m useless at trying to live on my own, just like Dad always told me?” He was crying by the end of his rant, looking away from Gabriel, and trying his hardest to hide his tears with his hair. He really was useless at trying to run his life anymore, so at this point he may as well just let Gabriel in, and let him take over his life, because at least then someone better would be doing things, and he wouldn’t fuck everything up anymore. After all, Dean seemed to like Gadreel a lot better than he had liked him, so maybe he would like Gabriel better.

“Sammy, what are you talking about? And what does Gadreel have to do with anything?”

His heart stopped. He didn’t mean to say that. He didn’t mean to say any of that. He never wanted anyone to find out about anything that had happened with that mess, wanting to just bury everything away where no one would ever be able to find it ever again. “I- He- I mean-” He stumbled through an attempt to explain anything, barely able to breathe through the anxiety that was slowly choking him.

There was an odd sound from Gabriel then, and he spoke so quietly, Sam could barely hear him.

“Sam, I need you to be honest with me, this is something so important, I can’t even tell you how important it is. Did Gadreel possess you?”

Barely able to breathe enough to stay conscious, and unable to do anything else, Sam squeezed Gabriel’s hand for a moment, waiting for the inevitable disgust that was to come.

But it never happened.

Instead of the rejection that he expected, Sam was pulled into a hug.

Barely able to believe it, Sam clung to Gabriel as tightly as he could, no longer able to hold back his sobs or words, scared that at any moment Gabriel would vanish, but unwilling and unable to hide things any longer.

He told Gabriel everything, from everything that had been done to him in the cage, to the terror of the hallucination of Lucifer that had nearly driven him insane, to the Trials and the aftermath, what happened with Gadreel, Dean’s time as a demon, the terror that was the Darkness, and everything since. He told him about how he was terrified that nothing that had happened in the last few weeks was real, how there were days where he wasn’t even sure if he was actually out of the Cage anymore, and even how he never felt safe anymore, even when he was in the bunker.

By the end of it, Sam was exhausted. He had just sat down and talked about all the things that had happened to him for so long, and it honestly made him feel better than he had felt in years.

But it was more than clear that Gabriel was not happy.

“Sam, I swear to my Dad, if Dean doesn’t show some serious remorse for the shit that he has done to you, I honestly don’t know what I might do to him. And if you don’t hold me back, I might just have to take up my Dad-given role as the Archangel of Justice again.”

“What do you mean?” Sam mumbled, too tired to move from where he was leaning against Gabriel.

Gabriel sighed, before speaking. “I’ll explain later, Sam. You should get some rest, all that venting can’t have been easy, and I know that kind of stuff is hell upon someone’s emotions. We’ll start dealing with the rest of this when you wake up. There’s gonna be difficulty, and nothing is really going to be the same, but from here on, we’re going to focus on trying to help you recover from all the trauma, alright?”

“Ok,” Sam whispered, letting Gabriel help him lay down on top of the pile of pillows under the table. After some minor fussing over the positions of blankets and pillows, Gabriel began to back away.  


“I’ll let you get some sleep.”

That filled Sam with some strange emotion that he no longer knew the word for. It wasn’t fear, or anxiety, but whatever it was, it had him reaching out, and grabbing onto Gabriel’s jacket.

“Stay. Please, I don’t want-”

Gabriel sighed, but smiled softly as he gently helped Sam scootch over, holding the tall man close. “It’s alright Sammy. I’m not going anywhere.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Gabriel discuss what happened with Gadreel and learns about Sam's difficulty with perceiving reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we move into the healing! There's a mention of food issues and Sam talks about what happened with Gadreel, (non-consensual possession) but this chapter is less intense than previous chapters.

The next week that passed was hard. Castiel was away from the bunker more than he was there, which gave Gabriel and Sam more than enough time to start talking in detail about everything that had happened.

 

“So, after the Trials. What do you remember from that point Sam?”

 

They were sitting in the library, the table being used as a base for a blanket fort, making the once cold corner feel far warmer than it ever had before. Christmas lights uncovered from deep within the bunker were strung all through the library, giving the entire room a soft glow that was far less harsh than the lighting throughout the rest of the bunker, and for the moment at least, Sam felt safe.

 

There was a warm mug of tea in his hands, charmed to never run out or spill, as well as to always be the perfect temperature, thanks to Gabriel. That, combined with the handful of blankets draped across his body, helped to combat the chills that flooded through him at the memories.

 

“I was dying. Death himself came to collect my soul, and take it to wherever it would end up.”

 

Gabriel hummed softly in understanding, all of his attention on Sam. “And did you want to go with him? You mentioned before that he gave you the choice.”

 

Sam shrugged, staring at the mug in his hands. “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Back then, I probably would have said yes. But now? I don’t know how to feel about it.”

 

“And that’s ok. It’s more than normal to be unsure about how you feel about kicking the bucket. We all want to go out in our old age, having been able to do everything we ever wanted to, but a lot of us know that that kind of end isn’t gonna be in the cards without a hell of a lot of work. It’s part of living.”

 

“I know that, I just….”

 

Gabriel’s hand rested atop one of his then, his thumb gently rubbing the tension away. “I know. So what happened next?”

 

Sam shivered then, leaning into Gabriel’s side in search of warmth. “Dean came, and begged me to go back with him, to keep living. He needed me to say-” He couldn’t say the word. Not anymore, not after everything. “It- It wasn’t Dean.”

 

Gabriel was silent, slowly taking the mug from Sam’s shaking hands and replacing it with a soft pillow, infused with grace to emit a gentle heat.

 

After several minutes, Sam was able to continue. “He did things, bad things, and he used my body to do them, and he would lock me up, keep me from seeing anything he was doing, keep me from knowing he was even there, and  _ Crowley _ had to get into my head, to show me what had been happening, for me to even know that he was there.”

 

“And that’s why you have a difficult time with reality.” Gabriel’s voice was soft, his tone even. It made Sam feel safe to say all things he had so far, but he didn’t know if he could say anything else right now, and he didn’t know how to say such a thing.

 

But Gabe was already one step ahead of him,  having opened the laptop sitting in front of them both, some show about baking playing softly. Thankful for the break, Sam leaned his head to rest on Gabriel’s shoulder, before closing his eyes.

 

A quick nap wouldn’t hurt anything, especially after the difficult conversation.

* * *

 

But just because most of Sam’s traumas came from a place of harm being dealt, or reality being stolen away from him, it didn’t mean that it all was.

Gabriel had noticed it fairly early on, the way that Sam tended to shy away from food of any kind unless it was created well within his line of sight, preferably right in front of him.

And while that had been all fine and well for the first several days, Gabriel knew that such an aversion would only cause problems in the future. After all, he couldn’t just create a meal out of thin air if Sam were to go out to eat with Dean, or never let Dean go out and buy groceries ever again. He needed to find a way to start breaking down that trigger, and helping Sam to learn that he was safe, with an archangel watching over him that wouldn’t let anything happen.

After several long discussions, Sam had finally agreed to let Gabriel start to prepare food away from his sight.

And oh, had it been a slow process.

Over the course of several days, Gabriel had slowly began to move from creating food and drinks right in front of Sam, to within his line of sight, to on the edge of his vision. When not seeing the exact movement that went into the food’s creation had started to cause anxiety, Gabriel would pause, and keep creating things at that distance until Sam began to feel more comfortable.

When it came time for him to move the creation fully out of sight, he took it just as slow as he had for when it was within Sam’s line of vision. The first time, he had sat right in front of Sam, quietly explaining the mechanics that went into the creation of a simple glass of water, as he filled a glass behind his back.

And Sam had been so brave, taking a small sip of the water, even though his hands were shaking, and his breathing was quick with his anxiety. He wasn’t able to drink any more, or handle anything else being created out of his sight that day, but it was such a big step forward for him that even Castiel, who had left to help hunters in both Sam and Dean’s absence, was quick to congratulate him when he heard.

Gabriel knew that that particular trauma would likely take months, if not years, to overcome, but until the day that Sam was able to eat without any fear, the way he had when he was a child, Gabe would be with him the whole way.

* * *

Even though Sam was willing to talk about a lot of his trauma with Gabriel, there was one topic he really didn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.

He knew that Gabriel likely didn’t hold any true measure of respect for Michael and Lucifer, but he still didn’t want to taint any memories that he may have of his brothers that were still good.

So instead of speaking out his traumas and fears like he knew Gabriel wanted him to, he whispered them to the archangel’s sleeping form on dark, lonely nights when he himself couldn’t find rest, casting the dark and painful words into the night like a desperate confession, praying to a God who never truly seemed to care for forgiveness for sins both his own and not.

And if he said a quiet prayer for the first sinner, the one who had never been shown any scrap of mercy, well, that was his own business.

* * *

 

Gabriel heard everything. Every late night whisper, every plea for forgiveness, every cry that Sam made as he fought to come to terms with what happened in the cage on his own.

If it were up to him, Sam never would have ended up in the cage at all. But that wasn’t the hand that fate had dealt, and now he was forced to listen as Sam begged for forgiveness for sins that never occured.

He had hoped that when Sam felt that he was strong enough to face those particular demons, he would feel safe enough to share them with him. But instead, Sam had chosen to fight this battle alone, and there was nothing that Gabriel could do but listen.

He didn’t need to sleep anymore, his grace having recovered enough in the last month to rival that of a seraph, so he was an unknown audience to Sam’s confessions, whenever they happened. The kid had said over and over again that he was scared for Gabriel, that he didn’t want to ruin any memories that may still be good, and as a result, he couldn’t tell him.

Sam was just so selfless, that he was willing to suffer through so much on his own, just so he could spare another from sorrow. It broke Gabriel’s heart, but there was nothing he could do.

To tell Sam that he would be ok, that he could see past his memories to see the trauma that had been done, it would reveal to him that he had heard every word, and possibly shatter the trust that the human had in him.

And so he said nothing, and continued to listen night after night, waiting for the night when Sam would no longer be plagued by such things.

* * *

 

Sam looked around the trees that surrounded the bunker nervously, anxious at the numerous things that could come bursting out of the trees without any warning to attack him.

Gabriel had said that he had something he wanted Sam to try, but being out in the depths of the forest after so long in the safety of the bunker was almost too much.

He was clinging tightly to the sleeve of the jacket that Gabriel wore, much the same as he had clung to Dean when he was a child, desperate for the feeling of safety that staying close to the archangel provided. 

If Gabriel noticed, he didn’t show it, rambling on about anything and everything that caught his eye as he led Sam to wherever it was that he was taking him.

“So as revenge upon Balthazar for turning my glorious wings bright green, I set a trap that was set to go off the next time he was in front of his commander, that would not only turn his wings a blindingly bright pink, but it would also completely cover him in glitter! Thing was, at the time, he and Cassie were really close, and Cas got covered in the stuff too. And I know he doesn’t look like it now, but he was a super emotional fledgling, and at the sight of even a single speck of dirt on his wings, he would come running to me with tears in those big blue eyes of his, and beg me to help him fix it. So you can only imagine what being completely coated in glitter did to the poor kiddo.”

Sam smiled, relaxing slightly despite the anxiety. He loved the stories that Gabriel would tell about the past, whether it be of pranks he played on ancient rulers, or of mundane things he had done over time, such as sampling various sweets and pastries as they were invented, but some of his favorite stories were the ones he would tell of the angels before everything went wrong. To be able to get even the slightest glimpse of what once was, and what Gabriel hoped would one day be restored, it was not only awe inspiring, but breathtaking to see the fierce love that he had held for each and every one of his siblings.

Before he could continue the story though, Gabriel stopped walking, and turned to face Sam. “Alright kiddo, here’s the deal. You’ve been having a lot of problems being able to tell reality from a construct, right? Thing is, you’ve got so much grace shoved right in there with your soul, that it’s melded together. And not that that’s a bad thing, but it does come with a few potential issues.”

Feeling shaky, Sam took a deep breath, but it did little to help calm his nerves. “Like what?”

Gabriel reached out and took hold of the hand that wasn’t holding onto his jacket, holding it gently. “For one, it gives you a stronger memory, which is a factor in why some of the things that have happened to you still feel like fresh wounds, instead of scars that ache. Another thing that it does, is cause some of your problems with reality. To put it into more human terms, it’s like the grace has ADD, and because you aren’t using it actively, it’s reaching out, and making you a bit more aware of some things than others, and when that happens, it makes it harder for you to tell what’s real and what isn’t.”

“So, it’s so focused on the wall, it doesn’t see the door, and starts screaming that there’s no door?” Sam asked, unable to stop his head from tilting to the side slightly as he tried to understand.

“Something like that,” Gabriel nodded, gesturing to the trees around them. “That’s why I brought you out here. Fun fact, if things have been created by an angel, then it would feel like that angel. For example, if I were to create a glass of water, and Cas were to create one, and they were both identical, if you could feel out the signatures that our grace creates whenever we use it, then no matter if the glasses were completely identical in every way, then you would be able to feel which glass was made by either one of us.”

Slowly walking to a tree, Sam in tow, Gabriel continued. “The same goes for anything of nature. The only way something wouldn’t be saturated with an angel’s grace is if it was crafted within the confines of reality. If an angel helped a tree grow after a storm nearly uprooted it, then there would be residual grace, but it would be more along the lines of a scratch on a dvd, not the dvd as a whole. Does that make sense?”

Sam nodded, looking up at the tree he was standing in front of. The explanation was simple enough for even a child to follow, but not in a patronizing way. No, the explanation was so simple, because that was all that was needed. There was no need to delve into terms of how exactly grace would affect something’s development. Not now anyway.

“So I guess that today you want me to feel up some trees?”

Gabriel laughed at the joke, and Sam found himself smiling too.

“Alright mister joker, let’s get this show on the road so you can start feeling better. I’m going to walk you through it the first couple times, but I want you to be able to do this on your own a few times before we go back inside. No need to have you questioning everything for any longer than you need to.”

Gabriel moved to gently guide Sam’s hand to the tree’s trunk, standing to the side as he did so. “Alright Sam. Close your eyes, and relax. Nothing is going to happen, I'm right here. Once you feel ready, I want you to search inside you until you feel the grace that rests there. There’s no need to be afraid of it, or those who left it there. When it melded to your soul, it became fully and completely yours. When you find it, let me know.”

He watched in silence as Sam seemed to calm more than he had in the near month that they had been working through things, until Sam slowly opened his eyes, which had begun to glow softly with grace. “I think I found it,” He whispered, almost as if in awe. “Is it always this warm?”

Smiling, Gabriel nodded. “The grace reflects its owner Sam. If the angel that holds it is cruel and cold, the grace will feel cold and harsh. If they are warm and gentle, it will reflect it.” Knowing he had to keep Sam on track, he looked back towards the tree.

“Now, I want you to reach out with the grace, and feel the tree. Feel what it is made out of, all the molecules and atoms, and the very essence of the tree. From there, reach out towards the other trees, and compare them. If they are constructed through the grace of an angel in an attempt to deceive, they will all feel the same, but if they are natural…” He trailed off, backing away to give Sam some space.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for a tear to find its way down Sam’s cheek, followed quickly by another, and another, until Sam fell to his knees, sobbing loudly as he bent over, grabbing at the roots of the tree as tightly as he could.

“They- They’re all different!” He gasped, and Gabriel knelt next to him, holding him through the torrent of emotions flooding through him.

“I know Dear One, I know how long you have feared, and how long you were unsure. But now you can know the truth, and know that you are safe within reality, not trapped within a dream.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the top of Sam’s head, Gabriel sat and held his human, waiting until he was ready to continue.

* * *

 

Not all days were good days. And not all bad days were Sam’s.

There were days when Gabriel would vanish for hours on end, only appearing to create a meal for Sam, and when it was time for Sam to sleep. In the beginning, Sam would spend those days reading, or watching Netflix, wondering if he had said something that had made Gabriel want to leave him, which would send him into a spiral of harmful thoughts. But after several discussions, he understood that Gabriel was also going through his own problems, and sometimes needed a little bit of space to deal with it. Afterwards, he would start staying a little longer for meals, or come a little sooner before bedtime.

Some days, Gabriel wouldn’t speak. He would use sign language to communicate if he absolutely had to, but would otherwise be silent. Sam never pushed him to speak during those times, nor would he make a fuss over it. He merely stayed with him, providing support whenever the memories would grow too painful.

Some days, though not as often as the rest, Gabriel would run around the bunker, frantic to make everything perfect for Sam and Cas, trying to gain atonement for perceived sins, and forgiveness for all the times that he had let down his younger siblings. Neither of the two ever held it against him that he wasn’t perfect, accepting all the gifts and actions that he gave, knowing that he would likely only feel better when all angels had accepted at least one item of favor.

They all had their good days and their bad days, but slowly, the good were beginning to outnumber the bad, and while both Sam and Gabriel knew that they would likely never get to the point where they would never deal with any of their problems again, they also knew that they were recovering, and would be stronger after.

* * *

They were watching some movie when it slipped out.

He had no idea why, the movie had nothing to do with it, and there had been no discussion about such things in the past, but it happened anyway.

“You know, when I was a kid, I wanted a dog.”

Gabriel had been lying curled against Sam’s side, but as soon as he had heard the declaration, he sat up slightly, turning to look at him. “Yeah? Did you ever get one?”

With an almost sad sigh, Sam shook his head. “Nah, not really. I kinda had one when I ran away as a teen, but I had to leave him behind when Dad and Dean found me. And I took care of one for a while when Dean and Cas were in Purgatory, but I had to leave him behind when Dean came back.”

Gabriel looked as if he were contemplating something for a time, before turning back to focus on the movie. And Sam thought that the topic had been dropped.

Except it wasn’t.

A week later, Gabriel was dragging Sam out of the library, and into the kitchen. “I know you don’t usually celebrate or anything, and I know it's still early, but who cares, right?”

“Gabe, what are you even talking about?” Sam asked, barely holding back his laughter at the archangel’s hyperactive babbles.

“Just look!” Gabriel finally said, pointing Sam towards the kitchen. “Before you go in there though, I should probably warn you, an old contact of mine owed me a favor or ten, and he wanted to stop by and personally deliver something. Nothing’s gonna happen, and I trust him with my life, as well as yours. Alright?”

Slightly concerned, Sam nodded, before entering the kitchen.

Standing in the center of the room was a man a few inches shorter than he was, with messy black hair, and piercing golden eyes. “Sam Winchester I presume? I’ve heard a lot about you over the years. Only good things, I promise.”

Feeling slightly overwhelmed, Sam nodded, before reaching out to take the man’s hand to shake. “Yeah, that’s me. And you are?”

The man looked at Gabriel with an unimpressed glare, before speaking. “You haven’t told him about us? How could you?” He shook his head then, looking back at Sam. “I apologize for his behavior. I am Fenrir, son of Loki. It’s a shame that he never mentioned us to you, we would have been great assets to you in the past if only you had called upon us.”

Sam was seriously lost. “Are you trying to say that Gabe’s your father?”

Fenrir nodded, grinning wolfishly as he did. “That’s right, Sam Winchester. And I must thank you for your part in aiding my father all these years, for otherwise I am uncertain as to if he ever would have stopped chasing his tail and started to actually act as he should towards his-”

“And that’s enough of that! I brought you here because you wanted to give it to him yourself, not for petty gossip, Fen.” Gabe cut him off, and Sam was back to being confused.

But before he could even consider trying to figure out what any of them were talking about, Fenrir was already speaking again.

“Sam Winchester, as a gift from my father to you, I am pleased to present you with the best pup from my best hounds, trained to be able to protect you from anything that would dare to harm you, as well as capable of being a worthy companion for one as honored as you.” At Fenrir’s call, a Shiba Inu puppy, no more than a few months old, came into the kitchen, standing at attention by his side. “He is yours to have and cherish, and there is no force in the world that would be able to take him away from you.”

Sam was shaking as he knelt down, the pup slowly walking over to sniff at his hand. “He’s mine? Really?”

Gabe smiled, kneeling down to scratch behind the pup’s ears. “Really. Dean isn’t taking this one from you kiddo, and neither is anyone else. I swear.”

Unable to hold himself back any longer, Sam threw himself at Gabriel, hugging him tightly. This was the best day ever, and as the pup started trying to climb up them both so they would pay attention to him, Sam only knew the day would get better.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for Suicidal Lucifer and what could be considered to be attempted suicide on the part of Lucifer. (Lucifer asks Sam to kill him. Sam doesn't.) Please take care of yourselves.

Sam sipped at a bottle of water, gently scratching at the back of Bones’ neck as he listened to Gabriel ramble on about the show he was trying to set up.

 

“It can have a few intense moments, and the Reavers are seriously screwed up, but overall it’s such a good show, and it deserves way more than a single season.” Gabriel was almost ranting at that, something about network executives, and missing his chance to dish out justice, but Sam just rolled his eyes.

 

He vaguely remembered hearing about the show back in college, but a full load of classes along with a part time job didn’t leave him a lot of free time back then, even after he had moved in with Jess.

 

“And how is it even supposed to work? Cowboys and space don’t really mix that well.”

 

Gabriel simply grinned, before flopping next to where Sam was laying, putting Bones between them. “Don’t you worry a bit about it, Sammy. Now, we are going to be skipping the first few minutes because it’s a pretty realistic showing of a battle in a war, and I know how that can screw with you, so this is what happens during that scene….”

 

As Gabriel described the battle, Sam found himself more and more interested with every word. So far what he was hearing was more to the space side of things than the cowboy side, but it sounded like an interesting mesh, and if it was done as well as Gabriel said, then the evening would prove to be rather entertaining.

 

And entertaining it had been.

 

They only watched the first episode, as it was an hour and a half, but it was still an interesting concept for a show, even if the rather graphic description of the Reavers and what they did required them to take a break for a while so Sam could calm down. It hadn’t led to a full scale panic attack, or anything of that nature, but it was still enough that Gabriel would be rewatching the show ahead of time so they could skip any mention of them for the time being.

 

“So what did you think of the show?” Gabriel turned to ask Sam, only to pause.

 

At some point, completely undetected, Sam had leaned over Bones to put his head on Gabriel’s shoulder, and looked like he was fighting to stay awake.

 

With a soft sigh that Sam wouldn’t be able to detect, Gabriel lowered his voice to be softer. “It’s ok to take a nap, Sam. I can get you up in an hour if you want.”

 

Sam shook his head, even as he yawned and his eyes grew heavier. “Don’t wanna sleep, don’t wanna miss out on this, on being with you.”

 

Gabriel’s eyes widened. He had no idea that Sam felt that way about him, nothing he had done when he was fully awake had ever given it away. But regardless of it, if this was a confession brought on by exhaustion, or simply Sam only now finding the courage to say such a thing now, Gabriel wasn’t going to push it.

 

He wasn’t sure if Sam was stable enough for a relationship, especially since there was no way of really knowing if he would try and push himself into things he wasn’t ready for, but if Sam honestly wanted to try, and honestly felt ready, who was he to deny him?

 

“I’ll be right here Sam, I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.” He whispered, slowly moving to pull Sam closer. It was a risk, but one well worth taking. In the past, there had been no time to try and build their relationship into what it could have been. Between the lingering hurt from what he had done to Sam in a misguided attempt to help, and the looming apocalypse that had stolen nearly all of their attention in the scant few free moments together they had, whatever had been between them had shriveled, kept alive only through fleeting hopes that each had to see the other again.

 

Now though, they had time enough to take things slowly, and to let things grow however they would. What had been there before was dead, but something new had taken root instead, and would likely grow stronger as a result.

 

Resting his own head on top of Sam’s, Gabriel used a touch of grace to turn on soft, relaxing music, and let his own eyes drift closed. He didn’t need sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t, and sleeping with the one he loved was more than worth any lost productivity.

* * *

 

Sam felt happy. It had taken almost two months, and hundreds of hours of effort from both him and Gabriel, but he was finally starting to feel stable again after everything that had happened to him.

 

As he walked through the woods with Gabriel, holding his hand as they both watched Bones run between trees, he smiled. He wasn’t entirely sure where the two of them were in regards to their relationship, and they hadn’t really discussed anything, but things had been going slow enough that however the relationship developed, there was more than enough time for them to set boundaries before anything happened that anyone wasn’t strictly comfortable with.

 

“What are you thinking about Sammy?” Gabriel asked, the question casual, with no incentive to answer if Sam didn’t want to. That was one of the primary reasons that Sam was so comfortable these days. Gabriel was more than willing to wait for him to be ready, or even drop the topic entirely if he wasn’t ready.

 

With a soft smile, Sam leaned over to rest his head on top of Gabriel’s. “Just thinking about us. Maybe trying to figure out what to do in the future.”

 

Gabriel hummed in understanding. The future. He didn't think Sam was referring to Dean's imminent return, but it was still looming over their heads. He wanted to meet his nephew, but he was afraid that Dean himself would pose a threat to Sam's recovery. Dean had either been so self involved that he hadn't noticed years of mental pain Sam had suffered through or had feigned ignorance which was even more unacceptable.

 

“I'm sorry.” Sam's soft spoken words brought Gabriel back to the present and his human pulled the archangel closer to him. “Now I've made you worry.”

 

“Not worrying,” Gabriel denied, which brought a tentative smile to Sam's face. “What kind of future were you debating?”

 

Sam was quiet for several minutes, before he finally spoke. “One where you and I are happy. One where I don’t have to hunt anymore, and I don’t have to worry about anyone trying to push me back into it.”

 

Gabriel’s heart ached for Sam. He knew better than anyone else just how hard he had tried to escape the hunting life, but it had been for naught. “Do you see that future happening soon? Or do you think that it’s just something to dream about?” He hated that he had to ask it, but he needed to know. If Sam was genuinely ready to stop hunting now, Gabriel would let nothing in Heaven or Hell push him back into it. Not Dean, not archangels,  _ not God himself. _

 

Sam didn’t have the chance to answer though, because moments later, Bones started growling at someone who hadn’t been there moments before.

 

Somehow, despite all the warding, all the cloaking, everything that Gabriel had set in place to keep Sam safe, Lucifer was standing before them both, covered in blood.

 

He was holding an archangel blade, with a nearly manic look in his eyes that made Gabriel nervous, even as he pushed Sam behind him. “Lucifer, don’t do anything stupid. We both know that that’s the last thing anyone wants.” He could feel Sam shaking, and even as he drew his own blade, he couldn’t pretend to be much more confident either.

 

Lucifer seemed to be confused, before laughing, looking even more insane as a result. “Oh brother, you always were good for a joke.” As he spoke, he began to move closer, prompting Gabriel to start pushing Sam further away. “But no, Nothing stupid is happening here today. In fact, you could say that this might just be the one thing I ever get right.”

 

Within the blink of an eye, Lucifer vanished, reappearing inches behind Sam, forcing the archangel blade into Sam’s hand and holding it up to his own throat.

 

Everything seemed to stop, reality itself evaporating except for where they all stood, with the Morningstar forcing his true vessel to hold a blade to the neck of the one who had tormented him most.

 

“Samuel Winchester,” Lucifer whispered, his voice dull and empty of any emotion. “You have suffered at my hand more than any other in all of creation. As such, I believe that it is only fitting that you are the one that shall remove me from existence.”

 

Sam could only stare at the blade in his hand. This couldn’t be real. None of it could be. But Gabe was just as panicked as he had been moments before, and not trying to guide him back to reality, which only meant that this was, in fact, as real as anything else that had happened that morning.

 

Not at all sure how he should respond, Sam found himself questioning the archangel, fighting for more time to understand. “And what would happen to me if I do kill you? You said it yourself, we were made for each other, so if one half of the whole dies, where does the other half go?”

 

Lucifer just looked sad then. “Sam, you and I have not been two halves of a whole in a very long time, if ever we were. You would have Gabriel to help you, and he has always been a far better being than I.”

 

“Alright, say that I would be fine afterwards. But why do you want this? This isn’t just something someone decides out of nowhere, and if you look at it from where I’m standing, this is seriously out of nowhere. I just want to understand.”

 

“Understand?! What is there to understand?!” Lucifer shouted then, letting go of Sam and backing away to start pacing. “I’m the Devil! The sole reason that anyone in the world needs to suffer! No one has ever seen any reason to listen, or understand, and blaming me seems to be working just fine for everyone in Heaven, Hell, and everywhere in between! So, excuse me, if I just want the joke to end, and for all the shit that’s constantly on my head to be on someone else’s for a change!”

 

Three months ago, if someone were to have told Sam that he would one day no longer fear Lucifer, that he would no longer hate him, but instead feel sorry for him, he would have laughed, before shooting them.

 

But now? To look at a being that had proclaimed himself as being better than humans, who had said that he was free of any flaws that any being created after him may have had, and to watch him have something very close to a mental breakdown?

 

Sam was no longer afraid. Handing the blade to Gabriel, he walked towards Lucifer, gently pulling the archangel’s hands away from his vessel’s hair, where they had started tugging harshly. “It’s alright, Lucifer. I know it really doesn’t seem like it, but it really is. Look at me,” carefully turning Lucifer’s face to look at him, he continued. “I’ve been exactly where you are right now. I know how it feels to have so much blame that isn’t yours placed upon you, and I know how heavy every single bit of it feels. But I’ve learned something over the years, something that makes it a little easier to carry.”

 

Tears began to run down Lucifer’s face, as he barely managed to whisper. “What have you learned?”

 

Smiling softly, Sam waved Gabriel closer. “It really does get better. But it doesn’t get that way on its own, you need to let others help you. I can help you, and I know that Gabriel can too, if you let us.”

 

There was silence for several long moments, as Lucifer shifted his gaze between Sam and Gabriel, until eventually, he nodded.

 

“I- I need you to help me, Sam.”

 

Slowly, Sam pulled Lucifer into a hug, letting the archangel hide his face between his shoulder and neck. Shifting to run a hand through Lucifer’s hair, Sam nodded softly. “And that’s exactly what we’ll do.”

* * *

 

The process of getting Lucifer into the bunker had been interesting. Thanks to wards that Gabriel had set in place early on, no angel could fly directly into the bunker, needing to go through the door the same as anyone else. So they had needed to walk back to the entrance, Sam and Gabe whispering soothing words to Lucifer in turn to help keep him calm.

Another issue related to the wards had been the ones that Sam and Castiel had put up specifically against Lucifer, which had left Gabriel and Lucifer outside for nearly an hour as Sam dismantled the wards while still upholding all of the wards against any angels who hadn’t been in the bunker in the past.

By the time all was said and done, and the three were in the library, Sam was exhausted.

He was laying against the pile of pillows in the corner, as he usually did, petting Bones absently while music played through his headphones. Gabriel was explaining the whole spoon thing to Lucifer as a starting point, and Sam knew that Gabe was likely using him as an example.

He wanted to be able to help more, especially since Lucifer had asked for his help, not Gabe’s help, but he was just so drained already that he honestly couldn’t.

He felt bad that he wasn’t able to help, but he didn’t feel guilty over it, and he wasn’t going to start beating himself up for it. He needed a break, and he was taking one. Even if Lucifer were to get annoyed, like Dean would have, Sam knew that Gabe would be proud of him for taking care of himself, and that was what mattered.

He didn’t really have any concept for how much time passed since he had put on his headphones, but it was freeing in a way that few things were. Whenever he put on his headphones, it was a strong indicator that he wasn’t to be bothered, no matter what was happening, and even without music playing, they managed to block out nearly every sound from the rest of the world, making them incredibly useful for days when he couldn’t handle the noises that came with crowds, but Gabe wanted to take him places. They could leave whenever he wanted, it wasn’t an issue, but sometimes he just wanted to sit and watch the fireworks without being directly involved.

There was also the thought that it would be an easy indicator for Dean whenever he came back, but Dean wasn’t as big of a priority anymore, even for Sam.

He was tired of having to prioritize Dean and what Dean wanted and what Dean needed and having to ignore everything he wanted and needed. It was more than time for him to focus on himself instead of his brother.

It had taken him a long time to realize that, but just the fact that he had realized it made things easier.

Noticing that Gabriel had left the library at some point, Sam took off his headphones, and looked at Lucifer.

The archangel looked far more human than ever before, his eyes still wet with unshed tears even as he clutched one of the many stray pillows tightly to his chest. Not wanting to spook him, Sam kept his voice down as he began to speak.

“How are you feeling? Do you want to talk about anything, or do you want me to leave?”

Lucifer was quiet for a long time, until he started to whisper. “How can you do it Sam? How can any of you do it? Ever since Dad dumped me back here, everything has hurt so much, and the one good thing that I thought I could have was stolen away from me before I could even consider what I would do if I were able to have it.”

With a sigh, Sam shook his head. “You try to cope as best as you can. That’s really all any of us can do. You find someone to talk to about everything with, and you cope. There’s no magic cure for this shit, no matter how much everyone wants there to be one.” He paused to think a moment. “Well, there are various medications you can take, but some of them only work for certain people, and most of them are seriously habit forming, and I don’t even know if anyone could make an antidepressant that’s strong enough to work on an archangel, god only knows how many I went through in order to find one that mostly worked for me when I was in college.”

That seemed to puzzle Lucifer, who was now tilting his head the same way Sam had seen Cas do for so many years now. “Why would you need that type of medication when you were young? I hadn’t done anything to you then, there would be no reason for you to need them.”

“That’s just it though,” Sam started, shaking his head slightly. “Everyone has different needs, and everyone’s brain works differently. Depression, anxiety, that kinda stuff happens to pretty much everyone at some point in their lives. And I know that I’m gonna struggle with it for a long time, maybe even the rest of my life, but I’m still gonna keep fighting, because there’s still all kinds of stuff I still want to see and do.”

Lucifer looked away, and after several moments, so did Sam.

The two were quiet for so long, Sam was almost certain that Lucifer no longer wanted to talk. But after nearly ten minutes, Lucifer finally spoke again, his voice little more than a whisper.

“I really am sorry for what happened.”

“I know you are. That’s why I’m going to help you.”

* * *

Gabriel was unsure about leaving Sam and Lucifer alone in the library. He’d made sure Lucifer had understood that Sam was taking a necessary break and was to be left alone unless he took the headphones off or initiated a conversation, but he hadn’t even been in the bunker for an hour. But the youngest archangel couldn’t have stayed in that room for another moment.

From the instant Sam had thrown Lucifer’s archangel blade into his hands, he’d known exactly whose blood had been all over it. There was no mistaking his own grace mixed into the demon blood.  _ Asmodeus. _ After  _ years  _ of being tortured, and months of making sure they didn’t travel too far from the bunker for fear that Asmodeus would track them down,  _ Lucifer  _ had killed the prince of Hell. And for what? To get into their good graces? He’d seen the look in Lucifer’s eyes when he’d asked Sam to kill him,  _ he’d honestly been expecting it.  _ Had wanted it.

He thought he knew the answer.

He’d been connected to the copies in the Elysian Hotel, enough to have heard Lucifer’s words. All of them. And what had Lucifer said? That he’d taught Gabriel all of his tricks. They might have thought he was referring to the first copy, but Gabriel wasn’t so sure. How much better could the second copy have really been? And Lucifer would have been able to tell later that the amount of grace it had wasn’t anywhere near the total power of an archangel. But he’d never said anything, never suggested anything to anyone else about his status as alive.

He’d said to Lucifer how much he’d not wanted to get involved in Michael and Lucifer’s fight, had even mentioned shiving Michael if he’d been there. So what if Lucifer had killed the copies to give him the chance to stay out of it as he had been? If Lucifer had known it was a copy, which is dialogue had suggested, he could have called him on it. Used the copies to find the real him. But he hadn’t.

Gabriel put the now clean angel blade onto the table and sank onto the floor. Maybe…. Maybe he’d severely misjudged Lucifer.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slice of life, getting Lucifer settled into the bunker. The calm before the storm, as they say.

The first several days after Lucifer moved into the bunker were difficult to say the least.

 

Daily, or even hourly, he would swap between wanting nothing to do with anyone, and not letting anyone out of his sight as he held them close, and he would often refuse to talk about anything in regards to how he was feeling, or what had led to him doing any of what he had done over the years.

 

Both Sam and Gabriel had been trying their hardest to give Lucifer the space he needed, knowing just how hard it could be sometimes to come to terms with everything that had been done to wrong you, or to admit all the things you had done to wrong others, but it was almost getting ridiculous. Sam could see where Lucifer’s pain had affected him, and could feel what it was doing to his fractured grace, but the archangel still refused to help.

 

Sam had spent many hours of those first few days with his headphones on, not because he wanted to be alone, but to give himself space to try and think of a potential solution that would lead to Lucifer knowing that he was safe, and that neither Sam or Gabriel would judge him for what he had done.

 

But as usual, when it finally happened, there was no warning, and no plan or preparation had been made.

* * *

 

Sam was in the kitchen, eating a sandwich that Gabriel had made for him, and waiting for said archangel to return from his journey to get Sam’s hairbrush, having gone on about doing something to help keep Sam’s ever growing hair out of his face, when Lucifer stormed in, glaring angrily.

“Alright, no more damn games! Where is he?!” He demanded, and Sam frowned in confusion, finishing the bite of sandwich he had just taken.

“If you’re looking for Gabriel, he-”

“NO!” Lucifer growled, slamming his hands on the table, causing some of Sam’s water to spill out of the jostled glass. “Dean! Where the hell is he?! He should have been here, told me exactly what I did wrong by now! Father only knows that he’s just like Mi-” He cut off then, pushing away from the table as he began to pace, pulling at his hair again.

Not entirely sure what Lucifer was talking about, Sam stayed sitting at the table, not wanting to risk angering Lucifer any further. But he still needed to know, so he risked asking a question.

“How so? You mentioned back before everything that I was like you, and that Dean was like Michael, but no one ever explained it to us. Could you explain it?” It was low risk, unless one were to count the frustration of an archangel as a high risk, but Sam was willing to risk it. 

As he had somewhat expected, Lucifer paused, before turning to stare at Sam “No one ever told  you? But it’s all over you both, surely you would have seen it by now?” He trailed off for a moment, before walking closer to the table. “Sam, you are me. Not the me that I’ve become, but the me I was before. You are the parts of me that were the best, the most perfect, and you are even better than those parts. Everything that you have ever done, for yourself or others, was from a place of pure intent. Regardless of the manipulation that led you to the choices you made, or the results of those actions. As were each of my actions until the moment that I was given the Mark to bear. But Michael…”

Lucifer’s eyes grew distant then, as he was lost in memory. “Michael’s actions were at first pure. As were all of our actions then. We knew nothing better, and we knew not how to think and act for ourselves. But as we all started to learn, Michael, he never really learned how. Maybe it’s because he had been following orders for so long, maybe because he was scared of what might happen if he tried to act on his own, but we never knew the reason, and the one time that he could have finally started to act on his own….”

“He threw you into the Cage,” Sam mumbled, starting to see where some could draw similarities from, but it wasn’t quite enough for him to see how anyone could directly compare Dean to Michael yet.

Lucifer only nodded though, looking as if he were fighting not to cry. “He threw me into the Cage. And I was alone for so long, with only my own thoughts to comfort me, until I saw something that finally gave me a reason to hope again.”

“What did you see?”

Lucifer sat across from Sam at the table then, reaching out to grab one of Sam’s hands with both of his, holding it so gently that it made the human blush softly. “I saw a baby, who had just been born, but would one day grow to free me from my prison, and who would be the first to understand me in eons.”

Before Sam could even attempt to figure out what Lucifer meant, or how to stop his face from growing even hotter from the ever growing blush, the archangel vanished, Gabriel entering moments later, acting as if nothing had even happened.

* * *

 

That had been the first of several conversations that seemed to only happen between Sam and Lucifer. It wasn’t always Lucifer confessing some unknown sin to him though. Often, Sam found himself seeking out the archangel in favor of Gabriel, whenever thoughts of what had been done to him at Dean’s hands grew too strong to combat on his own, and over time, Sam noticed that Lucifer would be more open to discussing harder topics, like his motive for the Apocalypse.

“It wasn’t that I truly wished for the destruction of the world, I was just angry at Michael for what he did to me.”

“Alright, but what about attacking Dean, in the graveyard?”

They were sitting out in the woods, having taken Bones out for a walk, and had stopped to take a break for a time.

Lucifer looked conflicted for a moment, before he spoke. “I saw all of your memories until that point Sam. I saw how Dean had treated you, and how he could potentially treat you in the future, and I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t just sit and allow the possibility of the same thing that happened to me happening to you. I admit that I acted rashly, but I couldn’t bear to see it.”

“What possibility did you see that made you the most afraid?” Sam had learned that the easiest way to get Lucifer was to make him feel that the conversation wasn’t about him, but to let him believe that it was about Sam.

“I-” Lucifer looked away, his breathing slightly shaky. “I feared that Dean would cast you away. The same as Michael cast me away. Your father had already cast you away when you went away in search of normality and education, the same as mine had cast me away when I dared to show him how things were not as perfect as he believed.”

Sam had no idea how to respond. He could see where Lucifer was coming from now, could see where his own pain towards his brother had been placed on another who could have ended up following the same path, but it still didn’t make it easier. And honestly, Sam didn’t even know if Dean was any different from Michael at this point.

“Do you still think that Dean and I are headed towards the same path as you and Michael took?”

There was silence, broken only by the sound of leaves shifting in the slight breeze. Bones made her way back towards the pair, and eventually, Lucifer stood up, speaking softly as he started to walk back to the bunker.

“I honestly don’t know, Sam.”

* * *

 

It was late. Gabriel was reading some inaccurate book on vampires and werewolves that was better for laughs than it was for any sort of information, while Sam slept deeply next to him. While there was little that could truly draw his attention away from Sam while he was sleeping, evenings were still a rather relaxed time for him to spend on catching up on things that he had missed while he was prisoner.

Even if it was a sappy romance novel clearly meant for young girls.

Bones was lying on a blanket a few feet away from him, watching. She could often be found watching over her master and she enjoyed her bed in the library, as far as Gabriel could tell. Then again, dogs were really easy to keep happy.

It was because of the book, and his attention to Sam, that he didn’t realize that Lucifer was standing in the doorway of the library until several minutes had passed.

Placing the book at his side, Gabriel looked closely at his brother, not missing the soft trembling that ran through him. “Lucifer? What’s the matter?”

“I- I’m weak enough to require sleep, and- I saw-”

Quickly making sure that Sam would be alright for the moment, Gabriel crawled out from under the table and made his way to where his brother was standing, carefully wrapping his wings around him. “It’s alright, I understand. You are more than welcome to stay with Sam and I while you sleep, if you think that it might help.”

When Lucifer nodded softly, Gabriel slowly led him to crawl under the table, before helping him to lay next to Sam. “Just rest Luci, there’s nothing to fear in this place. I’ll make sure that nothing gets to either of you.”

Lucifer was shaking his head though, whispering in Enochian.

Before Gabriel could try and soothe his brother though, Sam shifted, pulling Lucifer close as he did. “Jus’ sleep Lu…” He mumbled, quickly falling back into sleep.

A moment passed, and Gabriel smiled softly as he watched Lucifer’s breathing slowly begin to calm until he too fell asleep. Turning back to his book, Gabriel prepared for another calm night.

Bones crept forward towards him until she could put her head in Gabriel’s lap, and then she whined. Gabriel glanced down at the Shiba Inu, and stroked her with his free hand. “Hey, Girl,” he whispered in Enochian.

* * *

 

“Alright, everyone get comfy, we’ve got a movie to watch!”

Sam rolled his eyes at Gabriel, who ran into the library, waving a dvd case as he did so. “Alright, and what are we watching now?” There was no trying to get Gabriel to pause, or to wait for him to finish his chapter, so he may as well humor him and see about trying to finish it later. He put his book off to the side and glanced at Bones, whose ears had perked up when she heard Gabriel approach. She was lying next to him, just like she usually did when they were in the library.

If the movie didn’t put him to sleep that was. He was feeling a little under the weather, the result of some unholy combination of allergies and a cold, and it was seriously wiping his energy. It didn’t help a lot that Lucifer was incredibly reluctant to leave him alone for too long, but at least the archangel was pretty quiet whenever Sam’s headache would get worse.

Fiddling with the laptop, Gabe had the movie set up before long. “It’s called Treasure Planet, and it’s seriously cool. Like, space pirates and looking for treasure that no one’s ever seen, those levels of cool.”

Pausing for a moment, Sam frowned softly. “I think I might have seen that one back in college, but I can’t remember.”

“All the more reason to see it again!” Gabriel had exclaimed, and that was that. The movie started, and they were all sucked into the movie as it opened.

And honestly, Sam really enjoyed it. For as silly as the premise may have been, and how it was pretty obviously marketed to kids, it had a lot of deeper themes that most younger kids would have missed.

There were several points during the movie when Sam would look at Lucifer, trying to gauge his reactions, only to find him fully engrossed in the story, especially when it was revealed that the main character’s father had abandoned him, and everything that it had meant to him, and how it made all his behaviors through the movie so far make sense. 

And for all that the mutiny had been fairly shocking, the non-human characteristics were enough to separate everything from reality, so Sam didn’t have an issue with it, and it didn’t look like either Lucifer or Gabriel had issues with it either.

As the credits started though, Sam was having a hard time staying awake any longer, and leaned over to rest his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, yawning as he did. And with the volume lowering, and both archangels on either side of him talking quietly above his head in Enochian, Sam slept, secure in the knowledge that neither would let anything happen to him.

Bones had fallen asleep at some point during the movie and her head shifted to rest on Sam’s knee. She would look after master, even as she dreamed about chasing rabbits.

* * *

 

Sam hastily grabbed things almost at random and shoved them into the basket he was holding.

“Sam? Can you tell me again what you're doing?” Gabriel asked glad that Bones had come after him and wined until he had followed her.

“We're going on a picnic!” Sam exclaimed. “Out in the forest. Under the trees.” He needed to visit the trees. It was important, but he wasn't sure he could remember why. His head hurt so much that his eyes felt like they were burning and the pain went all the way to his forehead. Everything was tinted slightly red, like part of a dream, and the only thing he could focus on was how he had to get to the forest. But he'd already tried that and Gabriel wouldn't let him out of his sight. So a picnic it was.

He pulled a jar out of the cupboard at random and found that it was peanut butter. It looked unopened. Had he already packed the open jar? Did they need peanut butter? You couldn't eat butter all by itself, so what was he going to do with it? Maybe he should put it back. But what if they needed it? He could bring it just in case….

Someone was holding onto his arm as he slid to the floor in confusion. He could hear a dog whining beside him, but he couldn’t remember why that was significant.

“Sam? Sam? I know your brain is feeling fuzzy, but I need you to focus for a second. When did your fever spike?”

Fever? Why would he have a fever? “Is that why everything is so red? I don't like it.”

Something cold was pressed into his hands and he shivered. It was warmer outside, Sam thought. It was the perfect day to go on a picnic. It was too cold inside.

“I know that's cold, but I need you to drink it. I'll unpack the picnic basket and we'll go when you're feeling better.”

“No!” Sam shouted. He was standing even as he wasn't entirely aware of what he was doing. “The trees will know!”

Something wrapped around him, one part solid and something soft, and despite the fact he should have felt trapped, he could only lean towards it because it felt safe. The temperature decreased dramatically, which caused Sam to sigh in relief as the chill also caused the pain in his head to diminish a small amount. “Gabriel.”

“How about a compromise? How about you sit and drink the water I gave you, it has some acetaminophen in it, and I will repack the picnic basket? I think there's four jars of peanut butter in it.”

“Okay,” Sam relented. Who needed that much peanut butter? He allowed himself to be maneuvered until he was sitting at the table and he drank glass of cold water. He had to drink it in small swallows because the temperature was so cold, but by the time it was gone, Gabriel has finished with the basket and was sitting next to him, quietly encouraging him to finish it.

“There you are!” Lucifer exclaimed as he entered the kitchen. He saw Sam flinch at the volume, so at a slightly quieter voice he asked, “What are we doing today?”

“Picnic. Woods. Now,” Sam said. He set the empty glass down on the table hard enough for the glass to rattle and made a beeline for the bunker exit. Bones followed at his heels.

Lucifer blinked in confusion as Gabriel grabbed the picnic basket and made to follow him. Gabriel stopped in the doorway when he noticed Lucifer hadn't moved. “Sam's running a fever. I think he wants to make sure the trees are real and I didn't want to stop him even if he should be resting.”

“We can look after him just as well outside,” Lucifer promised. “He'll be fine.” He started walking towards where Sam had gone, leaving Gabriel no choice but to follow.

The archangels caught up to Sam at the edge of the forest, where he was sprawled in front of a tree. His fingers were wrapped tightly around one of the roots, and blue light sporadically pulsed into the tree.

“Real, real, real,” Sam repeated into the ground until the word lost all meaning.

Lucifer knelt next to Sam, jostling him as little as possible to allow Gabriel to spread the picnic blanket underneath them. “It's okay, Sam,” he whispered.

Gabriel laid down on Sam's other side. “We’re right here, and we’re not going anywhere.”

Nestled between his mates, Sam ceased his mantra as he let their presence settle him. He was okay. Perhaps a little delirious, but  _ they were real. This was real.  _ Eventually his breathing slowed and he drifted into an almost sleep, in which he could still hear his mates whispering softly to each other and to him.

He’d forgotten his shoes, and he could feel something warm and wet licking his toes.  _ Bones _ ,  _ good dog that she was, was worried about him. _

“Is Sam okay?” Lucifer whispered, as he studied how his wings overlapped with Gabriel. They had both spread their wings to keep Sam safe and comfortable, and it had been so long since his had touched another angel’s.

“He’s been fighting something that goes away and comes back, a cold, I think, and I found him deliriously packing for a picnic. He also seemed to be running a fever, but I think he’s okay.”

Lucifer nodded, fears lessened. “We should have pizza for dinner sometime. What do you think, Sam?”

“Mmm,” Sam mumbled. He was closer to Gabriel than he was to Lucifer, so he tugged on the kneeling archangel’s shirt, trying to pull him closer. He was cold, and they were so warm and soft.

  
“I think he’s a little past dinner decisions, Luci,” Gabriel said, but he was smiling.  _ This was home. _ He didn’t even mind the fact that Bones had laid down on his legs.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And Dean has returned!

Sam, Lucifer, Gabriel, and Cas were eating vegetarian pizza at the kitchen table. Sam had been doing a lot better at eating food prepared out of sight and food prepared with conjured ingredients, and even food prepared out of sight that was not made out of conjured ingredients, so they had started moving onto food prepared out of sight by other people. Like takeout. Both archangels had assured Sam nothing was wrong with the pizza (it wouldn’t do for their negligence to prove the pizza was actually poisoned) and at some point Sam had picked up a little bit on how to use his grace to check food for contamination but he wasn’t very good at it yet. So this was a start.

 

Sam liked the pizza, and surrounded by his family, he was doing okay.

 

While they were eating, the wards let them know visitors had arrived. People keyed into them, because they could hear the door open and voices. Bones barked, not recognizing the new scents drifting into the bunker.

 

“Do you think they’re home?” Excited youthful boy.

 

“Shouldn’t you have called them, Dean? Let them know we were on our way?”

 

“I did, but no one’s been answering their cell phones.”

 

Sam blanched, unsure of how he was supposed to feel. Excited because he’d missed Dean, but afraid that Dean would try to take away everything he’d gained for himself while he’d been gone. He put down the pizza he’d been about to take a bite of, suddenly nauseated with worry. He didn’t want to lose all the progress he’d gained, didn’t want the last few months to be meaningless. He loved Gabriel and Lucifer and he didn’t want to let Dean ruin this for him.

 

Gabriel put a hand on Sam’s knee. He wouldn’t let Dean ruin any of Sam’s progress, but they needed to know if Dean could put aside his pride. It would be better for Sam, because the young hunter wasn’t ready to cut ties with his brother.

 

The new arrivals came down the hallway with more speed after entering, and Jack was the first to enter the kitchen. “Castiel!” the nephil exclaimed, flitting to the angel he had bonded with so easily.

 

Castiel stood, returned the hug almost before the nephil initiated. “Hello, Jack,” he responded warmly.

 

From around Castiel, Jack saw Lucifer and Gabriel both sitting at the table. He didn’t know the reason, but he could tell that all the tension in the room was new, that until they had returned, it had been calm. “What did we miss?” Jack asked quietly, his respectful tone holding no hostility, just genuine curiosity.

 

“Healing,” Castiel replied, not quite awed. He would have been awed if he had gone to Apocalypse World and come to find Sam, Gabriel, and Lucifer as they were now. But he did not think that Dean would feel the same way. _His loss._

 

Dean came to the doorway next, and upon seeing Lucifer at the table, did a double take, not convinced that what he was seeing could possibly be real. Under what circumstances would Sam ever allow Lucifer to stand, or sit, comfortably in his presence?! “What the Hell, Sam!” he exclaimed, tongue moving faster than his brain.

 

Sam was still frozen. He had no idea what to say to that. He didn’t have to explain himself to Dean, but he had lived under the thumb of his family for so long, that it was hard to accept that he could make his own decisions without being enholdened to anyone.

 

“Would you like a piece of pizza, Jack?” Castiel asked. He could tell that tension was about to rise and wasn’t sure what they could possibly do ease it, except by some distraction.

 

“Yes, please! What kind is it, Castiel?”

 

“Gabriel ordered vegetarian, I believe.” Castiel cut a slice from the nearest pizza box and put it on a plate for the nephil.

 

Jack took the proffered plate and mojo’d himself a chair next to Castiel.

 

There was movement from the corner of Sam’s vision, as Lucifer leaned closer, whispering into his ear. “Do you need to leave?”

 

Sam tried to lean back, to nod, to do anything, when his breath was stolen away. Not because of something that either of his mates did, as had become commonplace, but because of the gun that was now pointed directly towards him, courtesy of his brother.

 

He froze. His relationship with Dean had never come to so low a point, no even during the first apocalypse. There’d been their lows as far as the demon blood went, but even the voicemail Dean had left all those years ago had only said that he _would_ hunt him, if he hadn’t known him. But he had known him and the worst of it had been the name calling. _Not that being locked in Bobby’s basement had been good either._ But the worst part of that had been the hallucinations. And the seizures. And being tied down. _Okay, everything about the detox had been bad, and that was just the first apocalypse._ Then there’d been the time Dean had gotten him to consent to Gadreel possessing him and his brother had liked the angel inside him better than he’d like _him._ But at least Dean had never aimed a gun at him.

 

Not that there hadn’t been metaphorical guns, from time to time. Sam hadn’t wanted to get back into hunting. Not after Jess, not after Dean had gone to purgatory and he’d just wanted to stay with Amelia. _He was done._ And if it took Dean pointing a gun at his head for Dean to get that, so be it. _He was done with this, and he was done pushing his own needs out of the way to deal with what Dean wanted and needed._

 

Sam reached his arm out and disarmed Dean before his brother could react. Sliding the magazine out of the gun was child’s play. _He’d told John Winchester he was afraid of the monster under the bed and John had given him a glock. Made sure he knew how to load and unload it with his eyes closed, blindfolded, or with a broken arm._ At the same time, his grace extended to remove the bullet in the chamber. He couldn’t risk Dean getting an itchy trigger finger, _Sam’s archangels_ would smite him.

 

The bullet landed on the table, the only sound in the frozen room, and the sound was echoed by the magazine hitting the floor. “Dean, stop,” he growled. “ _Just stop._ For years and years, I’ve done nothing but bend over backwards to fit into your little box of acceptability and _I’m done._ I don’t care about your stupid fragile masculinity, my mental and physical health are more important than conforming to your unreasonable and controlling expectations! _I am happy,_ I am the happiest I’ve been in my entire life and if you can’t pull your head out of your ass and accept that these are the choices I’ve made, then get the fuck out of here! I am done hunting, and I _done dealing with your shit._ ”

 

Sam stood up and without losing his composure, walked out of the kitchen. His appetite was long gone and he was pretty sure throwing up was still in the realm of possibility. He kept walking, and decided that the library was too open, so he headed for his room instead. As he shut the door behind him, he touched the exceptions to the wards that had been carved on the door with a loving hand. There was one that let Gabriel in, and one that let Lucifer in, and as he activated the warding, he couldn’t help but think about how far not only he had come, but the others as well for the exceptions to have ever been added.

 

There was a special level of trust inherent in the action. They trusted him not to do anything irreversible while he was alone, and he trusted them not to barge in on him when he really wanted to be alone.

 

Sam laid down on the bed, reached for Gabriel’s fleece pillow, and curled into a ball around it. The nausea hadn’t abated yet, but he hoped it would soon.

* * *

 

Back in the kitchen, two annoyed archangels were glaring at the hunter and carrying a silent conversation between the two of them.

 

 _“You should check on Sam,”_ Gabriel suggested. “ _You’re more likely to smite Dean in a moment of frustration and that’s not what Sam needs right now.”_

 

 _“And you’re not going to smite Dean? Or enact deserved Trickster Vengeance on him? Because Sam would_ love _the possible fallout from that.”_

 

 _“No.”_ Gabriel’s answer was petulant, telling Lucifer that Gabriel had possibly been planning exactly that, but was no longer planning such a thing because he’d been caught. That did not mean that there wouldn’t be an epic prank war eventually if Dean could be stopped from burning all the bridges before then.

 

 _“Then I shall leave you to it,”_ Lucifer agreed. He wasn’t sure that Dean was at the point where he could listen to him, so it was only reasonable to leave Gabriel to dealing with Dean while he went to make sure Sam was okay. Sam’s actions and declaration had surprised both archangels, but they had not allowed their surprise to show on their faces. Dean didn’t need that fodder. Lucifer was proud, because it showed just how much healing Sam had done while Dean had been away, and he was sure that Gabriel had an even greater understanding of it. But that didn’t mean that it wouldn’t affect Sam, and if their human mate was up for not being alone, then he would probably appreciate their presence.

 

He flew to Sam’s door and knocked once before opening the door a few inches. “Hey, Sam? May I come in?”

 

“Sure,” Sam replied, words muffled by the pillow he was possibly trying to suffocate himself with.

 

Lucifer entered and made sure to close the door behind him.  The only light was from the soft blue glow of the wards. The archangel had thought it was impressive that Sam had put so much effort into them, that he had been able to do them in Enochian. He found it no less impressive now, but he also thought it was sad that it had been necessary for his vessel to do so to feel safe.

 

The archangel crawled onto the bed and laid so he was facing Sam. “Do you need anything?”

 

Sam shook his head and then leaned forward to rest his head on Lucifer’s chest. The nausea was starting to lessen, but he closed his eyes anyway and tried to focus only on the feeling of being next to the warm archangel. Nothing else mattered. Dean didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was safe and one of his incredibly powerful mates was right here with him. And the other was likely determining whether or not Dean would be allowed to have a continued presence at the bunker, and it wasn’t Sam’s responsibility to handle him. _Not anymore._

 

Lucifer pulled Sam close, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. His poor human had been under so much stress for so many years, and he was almost surprised that he hadn’t exploded at his brother sooner. But maybe, Sam hadn’t found the strength or courage to do what he had, until he had taken the time to step back, and see for himself that he was capable of existing without his brother there. Maybe the extended separation, along with the near constant validation of his feelings from both Gabriel and Lucifer, had been more than enough to allow him to come to terms with his own feelings.

 

“I-” Sam started to whisper, stumbling over his words. “I don’t know why I said what I did to him.” Sam sighed, clutching the pillow close to his chest. “I didn’t mean to. I should apologize.”

 

Lucifer sighed softly, shifting to start running his hands through Sam’s hair. “If that is what you wish, then you can. But I do not believe that to be the proper course of action.”

 

“No, I should say something, anything.” Sam sat up then, hanging his head between his hands. “I went too far, I said things I shouldn’t have, I need to make it right.”

 

It broke Lucifer’s heart to watch Sam suffer with his own emotions, but there was little he could do. This was something that Sam needed to work through on his own, as much as it hurt. “Sam, you don’t have to do anything. If anything, it is Dean that needs to apologize to you.”

 

Sam looked up then, confusion clear on his face. “Why? Dean didn’t do anything wrong, I was the one that said things that were cruel, not him.”

 

Lucifer reached out, gently placing a hand on Sam’s cheek as he also reached for one of his hands. “Sam, right now, Gabriel is confronting him for his sins.”

 

Sam’s eyes widened, but before he could speak, Lucifer continued. “Not for anything that is of no fault to him, but for the many crimes he has committed against you. From stifling your independence, to forcing a possession upon you that you had never consented to, to intentionally hiding his sins, he must confess, and seek penance, or he will face judgment for it all.”

 

“No!” Sam shouted, standing up quickly, beginning to pace around the room, glaring at Lucifer fiercely from time to time. “He didn’t do anything! And if he did, I forgave him for it a long time ago! You don’t need to be mad at him!”

 

Standing slowly, and careful to make sure that Sam would have enough space to be comfortable, Lucifer continued talking. “Sam, I am not mad at him. Nor am I mad at you. And I am rather certain that Gabriel is not mad at him either, but the point remains that he _has_ done things in the past that he must answer for. And no matter what you have or have not forgiven him for, there are still things that he needs to make clear before heaven, and as the archangel of judgment, Gabriel is bound to do his duty.”

 

“Then why hasn’t he judged me?!”

 

Lucifer was taken aback then, watching Sam closely. “What do you mean Sam? What sins do you feel the need for judgment for?”

 

“Everything!” Sam looked incredibly agitated, running his hands through his hair repeatedly as if trying to calm himself, but to no avail. “Everything Dean ever did was to protect someone! Yeah, he did it wrong, but he still did it for the right reasons! All I ever did was for my own gain, or to clean up the mess I’ve already made, just to make a bigger mess!”

 

With a sigh, Lucifer looked at Sam for a long moment, before reaching out to place a hand on the man’s arm. “Sam, please sit down for a moment. I just want to talk to you for a moment, and I want you to listen. Can you do that for me, just for a few minutes?” Sam was staring at his hand for several moments, but eventually paused long enough to nod, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed. He was leaning over, his face still buried in his hands.

 

Slowly, so as to not spook him, Lucifer moved to kneel in front of Sam, carefully taking the human’s hands in his own and pulling them away from his face, gently moving to have Sam meet his gaze. “Sam, everything that you said just now, every single word, was a falsehood. And unfortunately, despite everything that Gabriel and I have told you this past year, it still seems that you believe every word.” Pausing a moment, Lucifer looked away for a second, fighting to remain calm. “No matter what you have been told, or what has happened to you, I want you to know this one thing. Alright?”

 

Sam sniffled for a moment, before nodding. “What?”

 

“You did not cause the apocalypse.”

 

Sam froze, tears slowly starting to fall. “But, you wanted to destroy the world, you wanted to end humanity, and I set you free.”

 

“Sam, you were manipulated from birth by forces far beyond your control. You never stood a chance, especially when you had no idea that it was even happening.” Looking Sam in the eye, Lucifer continued. “But if you never released me, then I never would have met you, and I never would have realized how grave my many mistakes were. I paid for my sins and crimes, and I believe with all my being that you have more than paid for your sins, few as they have ever been.”

 

“How can you be sure?” Sam whispered, and Lucifer smiled sadly.

 

“We can ask Gabriel to ensure your innocence if you would like, but you have done so much to help others, and to bring justice to those who met an untimely end, and I have no doubt that you are innocent of any further sins.”

 

Sam started sobbing, and Lucifer leaned forward to embrace him. “Will you lay down with me?” the archangel asked quietly a few minutes later when Sam’s sobbing had eased off only a little. “I’m sure Gabriel will join us as soon as he’s done.”

 

Lucifer stood from where he’d been kneeling and crawled around Sam and passed his human the grace infused pillow. The archangel laid down,  and Sam curled next to him, leaning into Lucifer's warmth as the archangel enveloped him the with arms and wings. He was still sniffling, but having Lucifer’s support meant a lot.

 

Lucifer held Sam, and a few minutes later his breathing had leveled out, suggesting his mate had fallen asleep. He didn’t blame Sam, it must have been so difficult to carry all that blame around. He whispered sweet Enochian nothings and settled in to wait for Gabriel’s return.

* * *

 

Back in the kitchen, there was still silence. Dean was staring at the doorway where Sam had walked off, Gabriel was sitting, glowering at Dean, and Cas and Jack were eating their pizza while watching the others. Castiel was worried about Sam, but he had also been around the Winchesters for years and understood that this was necessary because it was more than years of trauma that had led to Sam reaching such a low mental state. And it was not in either Gabriel’s, or Lucifer’s nature to let something that been so harmful to their human mate slide. Castiel was fond of the eldest hunter, but he had things he needed to learn if he didn’t want to lose Sam for good. Important things that he should have learned from John Winchester, but had not.

 

Dean glanced from where Sam had disappeared to where Lucifer had been sitting. That sneaky son of a bitch!

 

“Dean, _sit._ ” Gabriel forced the words out through clenched teeth, one of few things keeping him from smiting the bigoted hunter on principle alone. _Sam wouldn’t want that,_ he reminded himself. Would probably never forgive him if it came to that. When Dean didn’t move, he repeated himself, almost snarling, “Sit before I smite you for what you’ve consistently done _to your brother._ ”

 

“Wh-what?” Dean stammered, reaching for the chair across from Gabriel and stumbling into it. “What do you mean? I wouldn't hurt Sam.”

 

Gabriel’s glare intensified. “So you aren’t the reason Gadreel possessed Sam and caused him to spend years questioning whether or not anything is real? Make him consider frequently the possibility that he is _still_ possessed?” Dean blanched, but Gabriel continued. _If nothing else,_ _Dean needed a dose of reality._ “So you aren’t the reason your brother still feels guilty for the deaths Gadreel caused, that he blames himself for committing even though it wasn’t actually him, was in fact a creature possessing him that can only possess people who _consent_ to the possession? Except he didn’t, did he? Because he was near death and you _consented_ for him.”

 

“But- Sam was dying! Sam was dying and Gadreel said he could heal him!”

 

The archangel sighed. “ _Dean_ , _listen to me,_ can you even comprehend how incredibly invasive possession is? When possessed, the angel or demon doing the possessing can see _absolutely everything_ about the person. Their current thoughts, all their memories, absolutely everything they have ever felt, seen, heard, smelled, or tasted, along with every thought _they’ve ever had_ , every dream, every nightmare. If it happened inside their body or mind, they have access to it.  And there’s no preventing it. No hiding things you don’t want them to know about, no pretending that certain things never happened. And there is no controlling your own body when you’re possessed. The thing in control can do whatever it wants to and with the vessel. Lock the consciousness in whatever elaborate or simple place it wants to. And some beings are more vindictive than others, _Dean._ For some, the possession is like being in a fugue state they can’t recall. Others can remember every little thing the demon, or angel, did while inside their body. _All of it._ And sometimes, sometimes the possessing creature can create entire alternate realities inside the mind of the possessed, not unlike djin dreams. They don’t know they’re possessed, they think they’re living life the way they normally would, but they’re not. They’re trapped inside their mind while usually destructive things go on in the outside world, things they may or may not ever find out about.”

 

Dean, for his part, didn’t try to interrupt Gabriel’s diatribe. He knew vague logistics of possession but he’d never been possessed himself before and even though Sam had been possessed more than once, he’d never really talked about it in great detail, but why would he? _Whose fault do you suppose that is?_ “That was years ago, Gabriel, and I have learned a lot since then.”

 

“Have you? Really? Sure, you might not force Sam to be possessed again, but is it because you really feel sorry for it, of is it because of how shitty the situation became as soon as you couldn’t control it anymore?” Gabriel was quickly growing more and more frustrated, and the impressions of emotions that were escaping Sam’s room, despite all the warding to keep as much of it contained as possible were not helping the matter at all.

 

Dean looked visibly angry then, angrier than Gabriel recalled ever seeing him before. “The hell do you know about anything?! At least I stayed with my brother!”

 

Gabriel looked him in the eye for several minutes, just to watch him squirm. After a moment, he began to speak once more. “Don’t. You. Dare. You have no comprehension of what I have done for my family, or what I have done for humanity. You have no right to judge me. You who would submit your own brother to unmitigated tortures for what, because he wouldn't do what you thought to be best? Are you so idiotic that you can't comprehend what being a vessel entails? Why did you say no to Michael while pushing Sam to say yes? Why do you expect your brother to forgive you for every single thing that you have ever done, while you sit there, hanging his sins over his head for years after?”

 

He could see Dean gearing up for an attack, but he continued on. “Have you ever told him that you’re proud of him for anything? Have you ever even tried to validate his thoughts and emotions about a situation, to tell him that he’s okay, that it’s alright to be worried about things, that he’s allowed to take breaks? Because he sure as hell didn’t know it was allowed when you left!”

 

Dean stood quickly then, slamming his hands down on the table as his chair fell to the ground. “What the hell are you talking about?! Sammy-”

 

“Sam is defending you right now. Not because he honestly thinks that you need it, but because he feels that he is to blame. Because he still blames himself for things he had no control over.” Gabriel cut him off, voice low. “He still blames himself for the apocalypse. He still blames himself for everything his body did when he was without his soul. He still blames himself for abandoning you when you were lost in purgatory. Not because of any true blame or guilt that is upon him. No, he blames himself because of you.”

 

“You blamed him for the apocalypse, and told him to leave. When you came back from purgatory, you accused him of abandoning you, because he tried to have an attempt at a normal life after having no way of knowing if you were even still alive, after you did the exact same thing after he fell to the cage.”

 

Gabriel watched as Dean floundered for anything he could say to try to defend himself, just waiting to see what he could come up with. He knew that he had promised to keep from doing anything to harm Dean in any way, but if he dared to try and defend his actions, he didn’t know if he would be able to contain himself.

 

But it wasn’t Dean that spoke up. It was Castiel.

 

“He’s not wrong Dean. Nothing he has said is, in any way.” The seraph looked between Dean and Gabriel for a moment, before continuing. “As the archangel of judgment, he is bound by duty to be truthful in all his judgments, regardless of who he is judging.”

 

“So what, you want me to just lie down and take it? To have some asshole tell me all the ways I screwed up?!”

 

Gabriel spoke then, trying his hardest to remain calm. “Dean, that is not my intent here at all, and I think you know that. I’m not here to tell you how you screwed up. I’m trying to tell you how to do better by your brother, or you _will_ lose him.”

 

Unable to look at Dean any longer, Gabriel shook his head, turning to leave the kitchen without another word. He walked down the hall for several minutes, walking in the opposite direction of his true destination, before stopping to lean against the wall with a sigh, pulling out his phone and texting his brother.

 

Gabe: Hey, is Sam alright?

 

Lucifer: Not to the extent I would prefer. There was a very difficult conversation that needed to be had, but it still has not been completed.

 

Gabe: Yeah, nothing went right with Dean either. Had to leave before I would kill him.

 

Lucifer: While I know that I would appreciate it, at least at the moment, I also know that Sam would not appreciate such a thing.

 

Gabe: True enough. You still in Sam’s room?

 

Lucifer: We are.

 

Gabe: On my way.

* * *

 

Sam felt like he was floating. He was safe and warm, and he could feel the arms of both of his mates wrapped around him, holding him close. He could hear them whispering, one spinning tales of life from before the earth was formed, and the other tearing the tale apart before spinning their own tale, their words wrapping around the room and bouncing around the walls, before coming back to be judged and mocked before more words would begin the cycle again.

 

This was everything he had ever wanted in his life, to be safe and happy, and he finally had it. There was only one other thing that could make things any better than they were, but he didn’t want to think about that. He just wanted to bask in the feeling of comfort and love that surrounded him, and ignore the rest of the world.

 

The comforting atmosphere was broken though, when a knock at the door sounded.

 

Sam whimpered softly, but was quickly quieted with a kiss to the top of his head, and a hand running through his hair. There were several whispers in Enochian, before one of his mates pulled away. Before Sam could start to whine though, there was another kiss to his head, and a voice whispering in his ear.

 

“Relax Darling, he won’t be long. As soon as he sees what they want, he’ll be right here to continue holding you.”

 

He could hear the door to his room open, before it closed, the wards reactivating quickly. With a soft groan, he fought to open his eyes, struggling against the haze that seemed to surround his entire sense of self.

 

He was forced to close his eyes, as the haze grew to be too great to fight against. His mate sighed, and a cool hand was placed on his forehead. “Your fever is back. Not as high as before, but still enough that I know you’re feeling it.” His mate shifted then, and there was a bottle guided to his lips. “Drink, it’s just water, with a touch of my grace to help you recover.”

 

There was a moment of hesitation, but he slowly lifted a hand, setting it to rest atop his mate’s wrist, helping to try to control the flow of the water as he drank. He pushed the bottle away when he was finished, before turning back to bury his face in his mate’s chest. The lighting of the room stabbed at his eyes, causing his head to pound even more than it already was.

 

The nausea from earlier was still churning and was made worse by the pounding in his head. Where was Gabriel? he wondered idly, then shifted, groaning into his mate's chest as bile rose in his throat. He knew he should move, make an effort to not get puke on his mate, or himself, but he _couldn't move. And then he was moving._ Not of his own volition, but Lucifer was drawing him up and when the vomit finally came, it was into a bowl held by his mate, that he couldn't see behind closed lids.

 

“Easy, Sam,” Lucifer whispered, running gentle fingers through Sam's hair. He vanished the bowl and pulled Sam back to his chest and embracing him with arms and wings. He had hoped Sam could stay in the almost sleep like state until Gabriel returned, but that had been too much to ask for. “It's okay, Sam,” he repeated in Enochian when he felt the tears prickling at the edges of Sam's eyes.

 

He had been doing better. His health had been improving, and he had been gaining enough weight to be at a safe measurement, but the stress and anxiety of Dean's return seemed to be affecting Sam in ways that none of them had anticipated. But none of that would sway Lucifer from the side of his mate.

 

No, he would stay, holding his mate for as long as was needed, until the day when he would no longer need them.

 

And so he held his mate, comforting him as he cried, and soothing away his fears, until he once more had drifted into sleep. It was nearly an hour later that Gabriel returned, crawling into bed soundlessly, and curling up next to the human.

 

“It was Dean.” Gabriel whispered, using Enochian in case Sam was to wake unexpectedly. “He wanted to see Sam, even to the point of attempting to break through the door.”

 

Lucifer sighed, shifting his hold on Sam to allow Gabriel to hold him as well. “A foolish endeavor. Not that the warding would allow any damage to come to the door.”

 

There was a weak laugh from Gabriel then, as he rolled his eyes. “The door knob shocked him. A shame that Castiel led him away before we could see any more of the wards activate, it would be interesting to see what all Sam was capable of creating in defense.”

 

The conversation lapsed into silence then, as they watched over their mate, silently mourning the past that had led him to feel as if the only way he could be safe was to ward his living space, to the point where it was arguably the most secure area within both heaven and earth.

 

After several minutes though, Gabriel whispered once more. “Jack was with Dean. He said he wanted to meet you.”

 

“Did he?”

 

Gabriel nodded, facing his mate with a soft smile. “He seems like a sweet kid. You should be proud of him.”

 

Lucifer smiled then, looking down at the human sleeping in his arms. “Not as proud as I am of the one who raised him.” Placing yet another kiss atop Sam's head, he spread out his wings, laying them atop his mates. “I will meet him, but not until Sam is ready to face them all, and not until I know that Dean will not harass us for allowing the child to make his own decisions on what he is to believe of me.”

 

There was a sigh from Gabriel then, but they both paused as Sam shifted, watching for several minutes as he settled.

 

“He deserves better. Better than either of us can provide him, better than Dean treats him, just-” Lucifer’s voice faded, as his emotions prevented him from speaking any further.

 

Gabriel sighed. “I know.” He shifted then, tilting Lucifer’s head up to capture his lips in a tender kiss. “I know, and I agree. But we still need to try our best to help him, no matter what.”

 

With a slow nod, Lucifer finally began to relax.

 

After a moment though, he frowned slightly, looking back to his brother. “Where is Bones? I could have sworn that she would be here with Sam, but she hasn’t been here.”

 

Gabriel grinned widely, lifting a hand to point towards the door. “Our mate’s darling pooch decided to sit and wait outside the door until he comes out. She tried to take a chunk out of Dean’s shoe when he got too close, but she only got the laces.”

 

Smiling softly, Lucifer rolled his eyes, shifting softly to be able to hold his mates close. Dean was still outside, waiting to demand answers of Sam, but for the moment, they could rest.

* * *

 

Sam walked through the bunker, Bones by his side, but otherwise alone. There was something he needed to do, and a conversation that he needed to have with his brother, but it was something he needed to do alone.

 

Both of his mates were elsewhere in the bunker, waiting for his call should he need them, but otherwise they had agreed to wait for him. They both knew the importance of having a solid relationship with one’s siblings, and how it was important to ensure that roles and boundaries were set in stone, and they had told him that they would let him do what he must.

 

But as he peeked into the kitchen, still not seeing his brother, he shook his head. How was he supposed to talk with his brother if he couldn’t find him?

 

He had already looked in Dean’s room, the main library, the shooting range, and it was starting to get ridiculous. There was one more place that he was going to look, and then he was just going to back to the small library, where his mates were waiting for him.

 

Walking down the pathway that would lead him towards the garage, he noticed that Bones started to walk closer to him, watching the shadows whenever they would walk past one, not that the near blinding lights of the bunker allowed for many shadows.

 

Soon enough though, he opened the door, glancing into the large garage, where Dean was bent over, working on the engine of the Impala. Sam swallowed. This was necessary, and he knew that, but he didn’t want to and a small part of him was whining that he shouldn’t have had to. But he did, and he was going to end up tiptoeing around _his own_ place of residence if he didn’t fucking do something, and that, more than anything, was absolutely unacceptable.

 

“Sam!” Dean finally saw his brother and reached for a hand towel as he walked towards his brother. “I thought the archangels had locked you away!”

 

“Dean, stop.” He stook a bracing step forward, leaning against the wall, arms crossed in front of him. Bones growled, warningly, even as she stepped ever closer to her master. “Just stop.”

 

The very quiet voice reminded Sam that he didn’t _have_ to confront Dean. He _could_ just go back  to his mates and lay with them forever until his soul left his body. But that wasn't healthy, was actually suicidal ideation and he had been doing so much better, so why was it _Dean_ who always interfered with his mental health? Had always affected it negatively.

 

He sighed, and tried to ignore the newest wave of nausea. Honestly, he needed to get this over with or he was never going to break the cycle of endless codependency between himself and his brother. “They’re my archangels,” he said. “And you need to stop harassing me for my choices because they are, in fact, just as valid as yours. Your way is _not_ the only way and I am done putting you over my health. I almost died, I’ve almost died a lot, and _I’m done.”_

 

“But, Sam! Hunting is our life!”

 

“It’s not!” Sam rolled his eyes. “Never has hunting _ever_ been my first choice of how to live my life and _this time_ there is nothing in Heaven, or Hell, Purgatory, nor the fucking Empty, that is going to drag me back in. And Dean? If you can't get it out of your head that you don't have the right to make decisions for me, which you don’t, it won’t end well for you. I have made my choices and if you can’t accept that I love my archangels, my mates, you know where the door is. You can fuck off, because I don't need people in my life forcing their wills on me, and there’s times where it feels like that’s all you’ve ever done and I won’t have it any more. This is the ultimatum. You accept that I am done hunting and you accept that my archangel mates have as much right to be here as you, or you walk out that door.” Sam saw where this was going, knew that he had to say it, because Dean would never understand what he'd gone through all his life. “You have two choices. You can accept that circumstances have changed and that I'm genuinely happy for the first time in a  long time, or you can walk out that door and not come back.”

 

It took all of Sam’s energy to turn his back on his brother and backtrack through the hallway towards his room. He ignored Dean’s shouts of “Sam!” and “Sam, get back here so we can talk about this!” But his brother didn’t chase after him, and for that there might have been a prayer of thanks, though he was so mentally drained that it it might not have been able to go anywhere.

 

The last half of the walk seemed to take an eternity, and he had never been so glad for the fact that the small library where they were waiting for him didn't have a door. When he finally did arrive, he stood in the doorway in an attempt to catch his breath.

 

Lucifer and Gabriel were languishing in the makeshift nest underneath the table. Gabriel was sitting up, a book in his lap, but his attention wasn’t on it because Lucifer’s head was also in his lap and he was absently petting him. There was enough space between their bodies for Sam, and he just wanted to crawl over there, but at the same time, he was also afraid.

 

He’d finally, _finally,_ stood up to his brother, but what if Gabriel and Lucifer decided in the end that he had too much baggage and that they didn’t want to deal with him and his problems any more? The two archangels were happy with just the two of them, what if they decided they didn’t need him anymore? They could leave at any time, _would they even say goodbye?_

 

Gabriel glanced up when he heard Sam sniffle. He’d heard their human mate come down the hallway, but hadn’t realized what darker turn his thoughts had taken. “Come here, Sam-a-lam,” he said softly. “Come here.”

 

Sam went, some trepidation in his hesitant footsteps. He ducked under the table, Gabriel already reaching out to pull him down. Lucifer reached to also touch Sam, but he didn’t move his head from Gabriel’s lap. “We’re here, Sam,” Lucifer promised, knowingly. “We’re right here, and regardless of what Dean does or doesn’t do, that’s not going to change.”

 

Despite their arms around him, Sam still let out a shuddering breath, almost a sob. He loved his brother, _loved him,_ but… But if it was time to let go, he had to.

 

His archangels held him tightly and he let go. There was no use worrying. What would be, would be.

* * *

 

Dean paced the kitchen. An hour before, someone had asked if he was trying to wear a hole in the floor. He hadn’t graced them with a response. He hadn’t stopped, either. He had no idea what to do, and while the pacing was supposed to fix that, none of the answers had miraculously appeared either. Not that he’d really expected them to, but it would have been nice if just once, something could have been easy. But just because something was easy didn’t mean it was right, so there was probably a good reason he had no idea what to do.

 

When had things gotten so bad? It had been Dean and Sam against world for decades. But this year especially, and maybe more years than that, it hadn't only not been that, but Sam had seen them  genuinely bad.

 

And Dean could see Sam's point. It hadn't even been just the possessions. They had both gone through a lot of different things, Sam especially. And Gabriel had a point too. When had he ever made sure Sam knew he was right there with him? Never vocally. Not once.

 

The deaths of their friends had not been Sam's fault, but had he ever said as much? Made sure Sam knew as much? Why should it come as a surprise that Sam carried the weight of everything and had finally broken from it? Any one thing they'd gone through would have broken anyone else. So why had he done it? It wouldn’t have killed him to be more empathetic.

 

Dean kept pacing. What else was he supposed to do? He'd finally screwed up big time and at least in here he wasn't likely to run into any archangels that might have been in a smiting mood.

 

“They're not going to smite you dead. They might smite you a little bit. Might knock some of those dead brain cells loose so you can actually learn a thing or two.”

 

Dean glanced over to see that someone he didn't know or recognize had materialized themselves at the kitchen table.

 

To his credit, Dean didn't go for a weapon. He didn't even stop pacing. Either he'd finally gone mad and was hallucinating or the wards allowed someone he didn't know to enter whenever and however they wanted. Given Sam had even let Lucifer into the room not even God himself could have penetrated uninvited, the latter wasn't impossible. Then again, this could all be one big hallucination. But definitely not a djinn dream. Not pleasant enough for that shit.

 

“You're not hallucinating. Which is probably what a hallucination would say, but I wouldn't know. Still, sane is not a word I'd use to describe you.”

 

Dean could only describe the expression on his face as condescending, but at this point he didn’t care about that either. The young adult, or at least, that’s what he looked like, was leaning with his back and elbows against the table, and the hunter was sure his cocky shit-eating grin was identical to Gabriel’s when he’d been playing Trickster.

 

“Yeah?” Dean said. “And who might you be?”

 

“Name’s Fenrir,” he said. He opened his mouth, and on anyone else it would have been an open mouthed smile, but on him, it had a more feral look to it, and it didn’t leave much to Dean’s imagination that his canine teeth were probably knife sharp and that getting on his bad side would likely not end well.

 

Dean reached the far length of the kitchen and turned around. He was going to keep pacing. He wasn’t about to let some snot-nosed kid keep him from doing what he was doing, which was pacing. Maybe if he walked for long enough, the universe would start to make sense again. _Doubtful,_ but it was worth a shot. And he’d learned his lesson about pulling guns on people in the kitchen. He had not in fact pulled the gun on his brother, even in Sam had taken it that way. But he’d seen Sam’s eyes in the moment the gun had been drawn, and he’d known it had been the wrong course of action even in that moment.

 

“Maybe there’s hope for you after all.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “Are you reading my mind? Don’t you think that’s kind of rude?”

 

Fenrir shrugged. “Dad’s pissed at you, so he probably won’t chew me .”out for it. Besides, you can't do anything to me for it.”

 

“Really.” Dean rolled his eyes, but it wasn't worth worrying about. “Okay then… What's so interesting about my thoughts then?”

 

“Nothing specific.” He tilted his head in the way Dean had long since decided was a characteristic of angels. “I feel like it. I like Sam. A lot. And you hurt him.” He gently nodded his head a few times, as though carrying a silent conversation with himself. Dean ignored it as he pivoted again. “Dad would say I'm being petty, but he's one to talk because he probably invented pettiness.”

 

Dean stopped and glanced at Fenrir again. “You’re Gabriel’s son.”

 

“Ohh! Right in one! To be honest with you, I didn’t think you’d figure it out on your own.”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow. “So why are you here? If you’re Gabriel’s son, doesn’t that mean you’re here to visit him, or Sam?”

 

“I’m right where I want to be.”

 

The hunt decided it didn’t matter, and looked away. He resumed his pacing. Sam had been clear that he had two choices, but that wasn’t even the problem any more. He wasn’t going to leave, so he had to accept that Sam had changed. And he could, he’d been shocked when he’d walked in and found that so much had changed, but the pacing had straightened that out in his mind at least. No, the real problem was figuring out how the hell he was supposed to fix whatever had broken between him and Sam. You don’t just forgive someone for putting you through a decade of Hell, and Dean accepted that he’d probably screwed that up, a lot, but he really did want his brother back, and he wasn’t so dense as to not realize that _he_ had to change too.

 

“So you _are_ capable of self realization!”

 

Dean blinked at Fenrir. “You’re trolling me, aren’t you.”

 

This time when the kid grinned, it did not seem as dangerous as the first time, though Dean knew that looks could be deceiving. “My dad _is_ a Trickster. What were you expecting?” He laughed, and Dean wondered how old he was, but refrained from asking. It would probably boggle his mind.

 

Dean shook his head, and resumed pacing. “If you’re poking around in my skull, maybe you have some idea on how I can fix the mess I’ve made?”

 

“I wondered if you were going to ask for help. I have a few brothers and sisters, but none of us have ever been as close as you and Sam were at your height. And I’m not the fuck up you are, so I never broke any of them.”

 

Dean walked over to the coffee maker. If he was going to have to have this conversation, he was going to sit down for it. And he wanted something to drink. “Coffee, Fenrir?”

 

“Yes, please,” the nephil, (pagan?) replied. “But only if you have creamer. And sugar.” Dean glanced over his shoulder at him to see the feral smile again. He just shook his head because there was no doubt in his mind that this kid was related to Gabriel. Or maybe it was just an angel and angel kin thing. Jack had loved that nougat so much.

 

The hunter started the coffee maker and while it percolated he took the coffee creamer out of the fridge and put it on the table. It was mostly empty. He also took the bag of sugar on the table. As he put it down, he realized that the cabinets and fridge looked fairly well stocked from what he could tell. Since the coffee was still percolating, he went back to the fridge because he wanted to take stock.

 

There was… food. The shelves were pretty full, too, so he decided to take a look in the cabinets. He wasn’t sure he’d ever _seen_ a kitchen looking so well stocked. How were they supposed to eat all of it before it went bad? Where had it even come from? The note on the door sending Sam shopping was still there, but it had kind of been a joke, and he was pretty sure Sam hadn’t left the bunker to go shopping since he’d left for apocalypse world.

 

So where had it all come from?

 

“You don’t think his mates would let your brother starve, do you? What kind of mates would they be if they did?”

 

Dean didn’t have a response to that, and before he could try to think of something to say, the coffee pot stopped making noises. So he poured himself a cup of very hot coffee and took the coffee pot over to Fenrir so he could make his coffee however he liked it.

 

Which turned out to be a little bit of coffee, the rest of the creamer, and about as much sugar as Dean would put in a rhubarb pie. He didn’t say anything though, why did he care how the stranger was going to take his coffee? It didn’t affect him. Someone would have to get more creamer, of course, but he wasn’t the one that was going to drink it.

 

They sat and drank their coffees in silence.

 

“All trolling of me aside, why are you really here?” Dean asked when half of his coffee was gone. The nephil seemed to be making faster progress on what was sure to be a grainy syrup not fit for consumption, but whatever.

 

“Everybody’s pissed at you, and for good reason. I’ve been looking forward to messing with you _for months_ , but you’re not really what I was expecting. There’s no excusing the stupid shit you’ve done to Sam, but at the same time, not once have you considered a path of trying to force him back into the very small mold he thinks you want him to fit into. And I am proud of you because not once have you considered using holy oil on his mates. From what I know about the others’ impressions of you, that’s genuine progress.”

 

Dean sighed, but he didn’t respond as he sipped the rest of his coffee in silence. What did he even want? From himself? From his life? For whatever inane reason, _this_ was what Sam had chosen, and they were all correct. He had no business trying to interfere. Sam’s happiness and his own choices were more important than anything he thought should be.

 

“If you ever pull your head out of your ass… You probably have an angel of your own.”

 

It didn’t take any prompting to know that Fenrir was talking about Castiel. _Who else would he be talking about?_ “You really think so?”

 

“I am certain,” Fenrir replied. “But I think you should finish mending your bridge with Sam.”

 

The hunter shrugged. “Sam wants the archangels, so I guess I won’t kick up a fuss about them being here. And if he’s serious about not wanting to hunt, then that’s fine too. I used to hope he’d get out, but… I guess life happened.”

 

Fenrir frowned, but didn’t argue.

 

Dean tapped his fingers on the coffee cup. “I’ll write a letter. No excuses, just an honest apology and promise to do better. I won’t lose Sam again, _I  won’t,_ and I guess that means not antagonising the archangels.” He nodded to himself. “But Gabriel has to stop with the judgement crap. _I know_ I screwed up. I don’t need him rubbing it in my face. And I don’t appreciate the holier than thou shit, either. He’s an archangel who ran away to play _Pagan_.”

 

The nephil raised an eyebrow. “You aimed a fully loaded gun at his brother, and gave your brother a panic attack in the process. You deserved it.”

 

“ _I know_.” Dean shook his head. “I know I deserved it, and I get it, I do. I’d do the same if anyone else did that to my brother, and I know he chose dying or pretending to die over doing any crap to his brothers.”

 

“Lucifer _knew_ that last copy of Gabriel was a copy. He killed it to make sure everyone thought Gabriel was dead because he thought that’s what Gabriel wanted. And it worked, a little too well.” Fenrir gulped down the last swallow of his coffee as noisily as possible. “You’re getting where you need to be, but you have a little more thinking to do, I can tell, so I’m just going to leave now. Thanks for the coffee, it was delicious.”

 

And with that, the nephil vanished, leaving Dean alone in the kitchen. The hunter shook his head, and went to look for a paper and something to write with. He had a task. To mend some bridges. Maybe he’d write Cas, too. It could be a romantic gesture.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have reached the end! Hyrule and I really enjoyed writing it and hope that you all have enjoyed the journey thus far. Enjoy!

Sam was in the shower, using some of his alone time to think about how much had changed in the last year and how everything had come together in a way that was as close to perfection as he’d ever thought he’d get. He had his perfect archangel boyfriends, and his brother had calmed down and accepted him, and they all nurtured the nephil that lived in their home and had brightened their lives. Dean still went on the occasional hunt as backup for their friends, but he never tried to insist on doing his own hunts with Sam or even that Sam should be hunting too. He’d finally accepted that Sam had his own life doing what he wanted to do, and he didn’t try to interfere with that. (And he’d finally, finally, gotten with Cas, which made Sam’s life better because there was no more UST or soulful stares. He appreciated it.) Sam wasn’t sure exactly if one of the others had finally said something else to Dean beyond his own final ultimatum, but whatever something had done wonders in causing the necessary attitude shift.

 

Having failed to notice the bathroom door opening, Sam shrieked when the shower curtain was pulled aside, revealing Gabriel, who was grinning like a mad hound. “It’s just me, Sam. I was wondering if I could have my angel blade back? Jack wants to go on adventure and I was thinking that since Heaven is falling apart from lack of angels, we could go get our friends back from the Empty. What do you think?”

 

Sam blinked, and then he blinked again. He pouted. “Gabe! I was taking a really nice shower! Couldn’t this have waited?!”

 

“You were musing, Sam. Was it really that nice?”

 

“No, Sam, it can’t wait! I’m going too!” Lucifer called from the doorway.

 

“Okay,” Sam replied. This wasn’t entirely unexpected. The archangels were easily distracted and lived for instant gratification. He didn’t want to deny them anything. If anything, he was just grateful they seemed to want him, fragile human that he was. “Come home safe, okay? And if anything happens to Jack, I’ll murder you both.” He leaned forward to give Gabriel a kiss and then motioned Lucifer over to give him one as well.

 

“Aw, Sam-a-lam, we’ll be back before you know it!”

 

And with that, the archangels were gone. Sam didn’t mind, he just finished his shower quickly and escaped to his corner of the library. He decided to forgo the headphones because if Dean or Cas dropped by, he wasn’t adverse to conversation.

 

There was a new pile of books on the floor, but none of them were research related. At some point Gabriel had suggested he read for pleasure and he’d taken the archangel up on the offer. He was in the middle of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, so he picked it up and started reading once he was situated in the cozy nest under the table. He wasn’t wiped, but one didn’t need to be out of spoons to enjoy a little piece of quiet, and he was pretty sure he was coming down with the sniffles. But that wasn’t anything to worry about, probably.

 

A few hours later, Dean walked into the library. The floor no longer quaked with his footsteps and Sam no longer dreaded being in the same room with Dean.  _ Had he really felt that way at one point? That felt like so long ago. _

 

Dean glanced under the table, but he didn’t say anything as he first checked to see if Sam was wearing headphones. Gabriel had been clear from the start.  _ Sam was not to be disturbed if he was wearing headphones.  _ It was on the NOT OKAY list of behaviors. He hadn’t really understood at the beginning why the list was necessary, but he’d listened and learned, and he almost didn’t feel self conscious when he had to use it for himself,  _ because he got overwhelmed sometimes too. And that was okay. _

 

Sam wasn’t wearing headphones, but he also hadn’t said anything, so Dean thought about why he was here. Really thought about it. He wasn’t here about research, _list of no’s,_ _and talking about their friends was hit or miss._ But that had nothing to do with why he was here, either.

 

Dean sat on the floor, but he didn’t try to crawl under the table. That was Sam’s safe spot, his refuge, and even if he was willing to let Dean in,  _ which should never have been taken for granted,  _ he still had to be respectful of that space. “Hey, Sam?”

 

Sam put his bookmark into the book and closed it before setting it off to the side. He rolled over, pulling blankets with him, as he shifted so he could look at his brother. “Hey yourself,” he replied. He had no idea what Dean wanted, or any way of knowing what it was, but he was open to seeing where this would go. Sometimes he missed the way easy conversation had once flown between them, and yet it had never been the healthiest of relationships. With Gabriel’s intervention, it was improving. “What’s up?”

 

Dean shrugged. “I was just kind of hoping we could, you, know, chat?” He paused, trying to find the right words to say what he wanted. “I know a lot’s changed in the last year, and I guess, it feels like I don’t know you anymore.” He saw Sam frown, and he hasted to add, “No, no, there’s nothing wrong with that and I’m not objecting or saying that we should be the same as we’ve always been, because that wasn’t healthy. I just meant that I do want to know you. You’re my brother, Sam! And I just, I don’t want to lose you.”

 

“You won’t!” Sam promised. “The last year, I really needed to gain some perspective, and I did. I almost died, Dean, because I wasn’t functioning. And I know this isn’t necessarily what you want to hear, but Gabriel helped a lot. I am functioning so much better now, and I’m doing a lot better mentally. I haven’t been this stable since college, and even then, it wasn’t great.”

 

Dean nodded, taking time to consider what Sam was saying and how to respond to it. He didn’t really want to dwell on the negatives, and that wasn’t why he was here, so with a light smirk he said, “So how’s the sex?”

 

Sam sputtered, turning bright red with embarrassment.  _ Of course  _ Dean would ask that. He was just as bad as Gabriel, if not worse at times. Dean was smirking and didn’t look at all embarrassed enough for this conversation, so he choked out, “I dunno, Dean, you just have Cas, but I’ve got two archangels, one of which was a pagan for a long time and you know how much the pagans love their sex magic, so I’m thinking it’s pretty damn good.”

 

Dean’s eyes widened as he flushed with his own embarrassment. “ _ I didn’t need to know that,”  _ he sputtered. 

 

Sam grinned, more than happy to let his older brother squirm, but after a minute, he shook his head. “For real though, it's not like that. After everything that's happened, none of us are really interested in that sort of thing. We're just taking things one day at a time, and seeing where things go from there. Our relationship isn’t about sex, Dean, it’s way deeper than that.”

 

“So what do you guys  _ do _ , then? You sequester yourselves away at all manner of times.”

 

Sam shrugged. “Lucifer likes cuddles. And Gabriel is always thinking of new movies that he has to see  _ right now.  _ I love them to death for who they are, but as archangels, they’re used to instant gratification.” Dean opened his mouth. “ _ Not  _ in a sexual way. And since I can see what you’re next question is about to be,  _ no Dean,  _ neither of them, or me, would have thoughts of going elsewhere for sexual gratification.  _ Not everyone gets those feelings.  _ Besides, we all have perfectly good hands, yeah? No jealousy against a  _ hand _ . And Gabe probably invented half the the adult toys. I’m sure he knows where to buy them.”

 

Dean flushed even deeper into scarlet. “TMI, Sam! Have you no shame?!”

 

Sam laughed, looking a little more comfortable than he had earlier. “Don't ask questions you aren't ready to have the answers to. Besides, I think you’re the one with no shame.” He looked away, trying to think of something more casual to say. Sure, getting one over on Dean was fun, but Dean was here to chat and if they were going to chat it was going to be about safer topics. “I saw you on the phone with Jody earlier, how’s she doing?”

 

“They were doing some research for a hunt and wanted to know if the bunker had any further information.” Dean saw Sam’s breath hitch and added, “So I looked into it for them. And it was really interesting! Did you know that there’s these flowers that only bloom once every seven years?”

* * *

 

Standing before the rift that would allow them passage to the Empty, Lucifer and Gabriel had to admit that there was a tension about them.

Neither of them had ever dared to try breaking into the realm that made up what was supposed to be the final resting place of all angels, but had devolved into a plane of pure nothingness, where one could only sleep, lest they risk waking the guardian of the realm. The place was old, nearly as old as Lucifer, having been created as an eventuality, as nothing was ever to live without ever meeting an end.

After all, when even Death has died and been replaced through the course of time, how could anything not face the same fate?

But the fact that they were to enter what should have been their afterlife was not what was causing the tension. No, it was the tales of what Castiel had experienced when he had been awoken, how twisted the guardian had become over the countless years, of how what had been designed as a place of rest and renewal had been shifted to a place of forceful unconsciousness, to the point where those who were ready to become freed once more had been left to sleep forever, never knowing what was happening to their siblings that were awake.

Lucifer turned to face his son, proud of how brave the boy was being, even when faced with the unknown. “Jack, if you truly wish to come with us, I need you to swear to me that you will do exactly as Gabriel and I say, no matter what you think of it. If I tell you to run away, and not look back, I need to know that you will do exactly that.”

Jack tilted his head, frowning slightly in confusion, but nodded anyway. “I promise, I’ll do what you tell me to.”

Knowing that they couldn’t delay much longer, Lucifer turned back to face the rift. “Gabriel, you and I will be waking our siblings and directing them towards the rift so they can return home. Jack, your one and only task is to distract the entity that resides there. No more, no less. If it spots either of us, you are to run away as fast as you can, and return to the bunker. Understand?”

Not waiting for an answer, Lucifer stepped forward, entering the realm of rest.

Jack followed close behind, nervous as he entered the darkness. He never liked the dark, prefering to keep at least one light on when he would sleep, but there was no option for that now. He was here until either they rescued the angels, or until everything went wrong.

He watched as Lucifer and Gabriel rushed through the vast expanse of darkness, towards the numerous energy signatures that seemed almost dormant, but there was another energy that seemed to be growing closer, something dark and older than the world.

He turned quickly, heart racing and his breathing quick, eyes wide as he stared up at the being of darkness in front of him.

It looked at him as if with disdain, glaring harshly as he drew ever closer to the nephil. “Why are you here.”

The being’s speech was stilted, with a slight pause after each word, but the strange manner brought no comfort to Jack. Instead, it brought him fear.

Jack gulped softly, but held his ground as best as he could. “I wanted to speak with you.” 

The being looked at him, before seeming to roll it’s eyes, if such a thing could be attributed to it. “Try again. No being enters my realm without first dying, and no being is to leave until they are ready, and none are ready until  _ I _ say they are.” The being began to walk then, circling Jack as he did so. “Now, why would a child of an archangel and a mortal dare to enter my realm, knowing full well that he is not to come close?”

There was a slight pause then, before the being looked at him once more. “And why would the child want to disguise his being to pretend he is that which he is not?”

Looking at the being in terror, Jack was frozen, unable to do anything as he was examined by the being. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispered, trying to contain his panic as the entity drew closer.

“Oh, but I believe that you know.” The being was directly in his face then, staring at him. “But no matter. Such a deception will not last any further.”

A strange feeling washes over Jack then, and he could hear Lucifer screaming in the distance as he sunk to the ground, feeling himself start to shift in strange ways that he couldn’t understand, before a great crash sounded through the area, with more screaming, before he felt himself being lifted into the arms of another, that person carrying him towards the rift quickly.

He thought that he was crying, but he couldn’t tell, as numerous hands grasped at him, overwhelming him quickly.

“Out of the way! Can’t you see that he needs space?!” Someone was shouting, and Jack could feel himself being lifted away from the many hands, as he was pulled into a strong chest that seemed familiar, but too big to be who he thought it could be.

The chest rumbled softly as the one holding him spoke, startling Jack with the familiar voice. “Gabriel, get them all back to where they belong. I’m going to see about calming him, and then we can return to Sam.”

“Why not just go right to Sam?”

There was a sigh then. “In case you forgot, he promised to murder us both should anything happen to Jack. I’d like a few minutes with my son before meeting my end.”

The other archangel walked away, shouting at the vast number of beings as they all slowly began to leave, until it was just Jack and his father.

A hand was placed on Jack’s head, as the nephil began to cry again. There was a shaky breath from Lucifer, before the archangel began to speak.

“I’m so sorry darling, I never wanted this to happen to you, I never thought anything could happen to you, and I never would have brought you if I thought that anything would happen.”

Jack clung to the archangel who had given him his life, before snuggling close to him. “I wanted it.” His voice sounded so small, so high pitched, and he hated it.

There was another sigh from Lucifer then, before he began to speak once more. “I know you did darling. But that won’t stop me from feeling as if it is my fault.”

They remained there in silence for some time, before an intense longing came over Jack, and he sniffled,starting to shake again as more tears escaped. “I wanna go home. I wanna go to Sammy and Cassie and Bonesy.”

There was silence from Lucifer, before the archangel sighed. “Alright. I’ll have Gabriel meet us there. We can go and wait outside for him.”

* * *

 

Sam was reading under the table when his mates came back from their adventure into the Empty. They came directly to the library, Jack in tow.

The former hunter had some difficulty recognizing the nephil. Instead of the young adult Sam was accustomed to, Jack appeared to look about five or six. He still had the same features as his young adult self, it just looked as though he had been deaged. There were tear tracks on his face, but he wasn’t still crying.

“Jack?”

The kid nodded, tilting his head slightly as he hurried forward. He didn’t have to duck very far to be able to stand under the table. “Sammy! There was a thing there, and I was supposed to distract it, but then it did something weird and I was tiny and then we left and now we’re back but I’m still tiny but they won’t fix it!” He was pouting, his eyes starting to water again, but no more tears were falling yet. He threw himself at Sam, barely giving the man enough time to put the book down before he did so.

Looking towards Lucifer and Gabriel for any answer as to what was going on, Sam’s heart ached for the nephil as they both shook their heads.

“The entity that rules over the Empty let us wake many of the angels there, but only because it had an interest in Jack,” Lucifer started, barely able to contain the rage he felt towards the being that had done this to his son. “It said that he was trying to decieve it, and when Jack tried to argue, it changed him to this, his ‘true self’. As far as either of us can tell, there is nothing that can be done to return him to the body that used to be his, possibly beyond time and natural growth. Any attempts by either Gabriel or I to change things-” His voice cut off, and he had to take several visibly shaky breaths to keep from doing anything that could potentially scare Jack.

Gabriel however, was not one to let anything remain unsaid. “If either of us try to reverse whatever was done, it seems that our grace simply activates it once more, and Jack will get younger and younger, with no sign of when it will end. This is just something that is far beyond us.”

Holding the now crying child tightly, Sam sighed, burying his face in the boy’s soft hair for a moment as he tried to keep his own emotions in check.

“I guess we need to go shopping then, none of his clothes will fit him anymore.” It was a weak attempt at humor, and he knew it. But it was better than breaking down the same way Jack was. After all, the first thing any new parent learned about children was that they largely based their own reactions off of those they trusted, looking towards them for guidance on how they should react to different things in the world around them. And while Jack was (now) physically a five year old, and old enough to start having his own reactions, the point remained that he was in reality little more than an infant, and still needed that guidance.

Gabriel crawled under the table with him, quietly wrapping an arm around Sam’s shoulder and pulling him close, letting him rest his head on the archangel’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out. It’s not like this is the first time any of us have taken care of a kid before, even if the circumstances are a little strange, even for us.”

Relaxing against his mate, Sam sighed, adjusting his hold on Jack. “I know we will.”

* * *

 

After the shock that had been Jack coming back from the Empty much smaller than he was when he left, there had been a lot to do. The outfit that he had been wearing that day had shrunk with him, but nothing else had, and the nephil could only wear the single outfit for so long before it would need to be washed.

As Lucifer was the most horrified by Jack’s change (other than Jack himself anyway), and Sam had no idea where to start to try and get things for a child as small as Jack suddenly was, Gabriel had taken Dean to the store with him, leaving Lucifer and Sam to try and settle the kid.

It was more than obvious to Sam that Jack was tired. He’d watched the kid for months, even if it had been a while since he had vanished into the other world in an attempt to find Mary, only to find himself in a complicated new world that he had no true comprehension of. Sam still knew his tells, and knew the signs of someone who was fighting against sleep that was desperately needed.

“Come on Jack, let’s lay down for a bit. I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired, and it would be probably be smart for you to take a nap too.” He didn’t expect it to work. Jack was pretty stubborn on a good day, and this was most certainly not a good day.

“No!” Jack stomped one of his feet, pouting and glaring with all his might. “I’m not sleepy! I’m fine! I don’t need a nap, and I don’t need new clothes! I wanna be big again!”

Sam sighed. Jack was having a bad enough day, he didn’t want to make it any worse by bringing up the fact that he was already starting to settle into his younger form, from his speech to his mannerisms. “Jack, I get it. This really isn’t a great situation, but we need to deal with it as best as we can, and right now, that means working with the limits of your new body. And no matter how much we hate it, that means taking naps, and new clothes meant for smaller bodies.”

“But I don’t wanna!” Jack was nearly shouting, stomping again, and tears running down his cheeks unnoticed by him. Sam’s heart was breaking, and he was tempted to just grab Jack and hide him away from the world, but that wasn’t going to help anything. Jack needed to accept what had happened on his own, not have acceptance pushed on him.

Luckily, it seemed that Lucifer was willing to help, even just a bit.

“Jack, we aren’t saying this to be mean, or to make you do something you don’t want to.” The archangel knelt down, taking his son’s face between his hands and wiping away his tears. “We want you to be happy, yes, but we also want you to be healthy, and part of that is ensuring that your vessel is well taken care of, especially as you only have the one you were born into.” After a moment, he looked at Sam, smiling gently. “And that includes getting enough sleep. You weren’t getting anywhere near enough sleep before this happened, and I’m not about to let it continue. Not when you’re so tired already.”

For all his words were soft though, it seemed that they only made Jack more upset.

“NO!” He was fully shouting this time, shoving Lucifer’s hands away. “Momma said I needed to be strong, and take care of myself! I need to be big!” Several books began to fly from their shelves as he raged, falling to the floor with loud crashes, nearly halfway across the library from where they originally started.

When Sam tried to get closer to Jack, Lucifer raised a hand. This was something that needed to happen, and the aftermath needed to be handled carefully. As it was, Jack’s tantrum was nowhere near the scale it could have been if he were rested, but bringing that particular detail up wouldn’t do anything good at all.

Carefully reaching to grab his upset son’s hands, Lucifer brought the child into a gentle hug, wrapping his wings around him to contain the fledgling’s grace, preventing any further damage to the area. “Jack, Kiddo, there’s no need for it anymore. You don’t have to take care of yourself on your own, you can let others help. Your uncle Gabe and I, as well as Sam, Castiel, and even Dean, we’re all more than willing to help you, and take care of you.You can be a kid, and not have to worry about hunting, or protecting yourself.”

“But Momma said-”

“I know kiddo, but she was scared, and didn’t know. Nobody knew that we would be where we are today, and nobody knew that this would happen. We’ve just gotta make the best of it, alright? Maybe we’ll find a way to fix things in the future, or my Dad will finally get off his ass and decide to do something nice for once, but until then, we’ll just find a way to make things work, ok?”

Jack sniffled then, yawning softly as the fight left his body, as he slowly calmed down from his tantrum. Lucifer smiled softly, picking him up and carrying him over to the table, carefully helping him to lay down next to Sam. “Just rest Jack. There’s nothing that you need to worry about today. All you need to do right now is calm down, and rest.”

“Don’ wanna, wanna find out why,” Jack mumbled, even as his eyes closed, and he grabbed at Sam’s shirt.

Sam laughed softly, grabbing a blanket and gently tucking it around Jack’s shoulders. “I know, I’d feel the same way.” After a moment of thought, he lowered his voice, grinning at Lucifer a bit as he spoke again. “You know what? I’m glad you’re gonna take a nap with me. Wanna know why?”

Jack yawned again, rubbing at his eyes as he tried his hardest to stay awake. “Why?”

“Because!” He started, winking at Lucifer. “Your dad might be strong and protect us, but he isn’t as good of a snuggler as he says he is. Maybe you can snuggle better than your dad?”

It was almost the funniest thing that Sam had seen all week. Lucifer was staring at him with a mixture of shock and horror, wings fluffing out as if he had truly been scandalized by the mere suggestion that he wasn’t the best snuggler in the world.

Jack however, was completely unfazed, yawning again as he snuggled close, mumbling about how he was the best snuggler in the world as he finally lost the fight with sleep.

As soon as he was certain that Jack would stay asleep, Lucifer looked at Sam, glaring slightly. “How could you Sam? I thought you said that I was the better cuddler!”

Sam rolled his eyes, reaching for the book he had been reading earlier. “You’re being ridiculous. Of course you’re a better cuddler than Gabriel, but if it’s between stroking your ego, and getting Jack to actually settle down long enough to sleep, then I’m sorry, but I’m going to do what I need to to make sure he sleeps.” He sighed then, looking down at the child laying next to him. “We both know that he wasn’t getting anywhere near enough sleep, even before this happened. So can you relax with the attitude for long enough to make sure he’s going to be alright?”

Lucifer was quiet, watching his human mate closely. Something about the situation was causing Sam far more stress than the human was letting on, and it was concerning to watch it happen. Wanting to get to the bottom of what was happening, but knowing he had to be cautious to avoid setting him off any further, he carefully began. “Sam, I’m trying my best. I swear that I am. But this-” he gestured to Jack, then the room at large then. “This is a bit beyond what I ever considered to be possible. Not that it’s a bad thing, but this is still something that’s going to take some getting used to.”

Almost immediately, Lucifer knew that he had said or done something wrong.

Something dark filled Sam’s expression, before it faded into nothingness. Within nearly a second, Sam had gone from mostly normal, if a tad angry, to something so dark not even Lucifer knew entirely what it was, to an almost numb acceptance. It was even more worrying to see than the anger, but it was what was said next that truly scared him.

Sam looked away, his face deceptively blank, before speaking in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

“Fine. Just be sure to tell him goodbye before you go.”

“Sam, that’s not what I meant at all,” Lucifer tried, moving to kneel in front of Sam, careful not to block him in. There was no telling just where his head was at this point, and he would’ve preferred to wait for Gabriel to get back before dealing with anything like this, but even he knew that this was something that needed to be handled now. “I’m not leaving anyone. Not Jack, not Gabriel, not Castiel, and especially not you. What made you think that that was even remotely a possibility?”

Lucifer watched as Sam avoided his gaze, emotions torn between sorrow, regret, and…..shame. What did he have to be ashamed of? Before he could question it however, Sam whispered softly, breaking Lucifer’s heart all over again.

“Everyone leaves. Dean, Cas, Gabe, even Mom and Dad. What’s another name to add to the list?” Tears slowly began to fall, seemingly unnoticed by the human as he continued. “Just tell Jack before you leave. He deserves that much.”

Against his better judgment, Lucifer rushed forward, pulling his mate into his arms. He hated this, hated how the world had been so cruel to instill such fear into such a remarkable human, but there was nothing that could be done to change the past. He could only help Sam move towards the future.

“Sam, I want you to listen to me, and listen well.” After carefully shifting Jack to where he was fully laying on one of the many oversized pillows, he pulled Sam into his lap, holding the human close. “I will  _ never _ leave you. There is nothing upon this earth that will change that. At this moment, not even Father Himself will be able to force me to leave you. Do you understand me?”

But Sam was too distressed to hear all the nuance behind the words, shaking his head as he cried. Not knowing what else to do, he called out to Gabriel, begging his brother to return for the sake of their mate.

Thankfully, Gabriel appeared within moments, gently shifting Jack out of the way before sitting next to Lucifer. “What happened? He was fine when we left.” He asked quietly, using the form of Enochian that they knew best.

Lucifer shook his head, unable to shrug. “I don’t know. We were talking after getting Jack to sleep, and he froze when I mentioned that the situation would take time for all of us to adjust to.”

There was a sigh from Gabriel then. “Yeah, I know what happened. There’s not really a lot we can do right now, except stay put and wait for him to calm down.”

“What happened then? What did I do wrong?”

“First off, it wasn’t you. So get that one through your head, and quick. Second, what happened was you just stumbled on one of his triggers, but you didn’t know, and I didn’t think it would be an issue, so I forgot to warn you.” Gabriel sighed again, before continuing. “Thing is, Sam’s been left behind and abandoned by the people he loves more times than he can count. And it sucks to think about, but there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Lucifer nodded softly in understanding, before gently pressing a kiss to the top of his human’s head. “What can I do to avoid it in the future?”

Gabriel shrugged then. “I don’t know. He won’t talk about some of it, so there’s no real way to fully avoid it. My best guesses? Avoid anything to do with needing time to process things, especially when it comes to difficult situations, and any mention of his dad. There were a few other things that might have caused situations like this, but he won’t talk about a lot of them, and as a result, I don’t know what part of it set him off, especially since some of it can take a while to fully culminate.”

“I still hate that this happened.”

“I know you do. I hate it too, but there isn’t a lot that either of us can do if he won’t talk about it.” Lucifer sighed at his brother’s words, before noticing something that was out of place in the library.

“Gabriel?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is there a package of Pull-Ups on the floor?”

Gabriel groaned, hiding his face in his hands for a moment before mumbling. “Dean and I were arguing about whether or not Jack would need them when you called me.”

Lucifer laughed then, just soft enough to not wake the now sleeping human in his arms, or the nephil mere feet away. “Well, we have them now, regardless of if there is truly any need. Now, bring my son closer, and let Sam hold him. Contact with a soul as pure as his will only do Jack good.”

* * *

 

After the fiasco that had been Jack’s tantrum and Sam’s unintentional episode, things in the bunker were generally quiet.

As with most traumatic episodes, the event had left Sam feeling disoriented and exhausted, so the human had returned to the library not long after dinner, falling asleep quickly. Jack had done much the same, waking up from his nap just long enough to eat a little bit of the pasta that Dean had made, before stumbling off towards his room and going back to sleep. Lucifer would have prefered Jack to sleep in the library, where Sam and Gabriel had begun to build the barest framework of a nest without even realizing it, but he also understood that the human nature of his son was craving independence, and he was not one to deny anyone an attempt to be independent.

And so, he instead lay in the library, holding Sam close while he slept, whispering back and forth with Gabriel about the most recent episode of various television shows in enochian. They had learned over the months that they had been together that Sam slept best not only when there were others nearby, but also when there was some amount of noise in the background, whether it be soft music, or a quiet conversation. It helped him to relax, as well as help to keep his instincts in check, allowing him to sleep through other noises, such as footsteps or the occasional sneeze. Those instincts had done well to keep him alive through the many years of hunting, but now, as he had entirely stopped fieldwork, and had largely stopped even research, those instincts were only causing problems.

Slowly though, the conversation between the archangels shifted. No longer were they discussing the things that contestants could have done differently in order to win the favor of the judges, instead, they were discussing the changes that had happened seemingly all at once, and how to better help everyone adjust.

Not only had they managed to awaken angels from their overly extended rest in the Empty, but thanks to Lucifer’s panic at seeing the tampering to Jack that the entity had done, the burst of light he had created had awoken  _ everyone _ . Even Raphael, who Castiel had admitted to killing in the past, had been restored to what he used to be before the apocalypse had even been an idea. The only ones that were missing were those who had fallen entirely, their grace corrupting beyond any repair, short of intervention by their Father.

As they spoke however, they both became aware of the soft sound of footsteps approaching the library. They were far too soft to belong to either Dean or Castiel, and Mary would not be awake at this hour. There was only one that the footsteps could belong to, and it was concerning to think about why.

Jack was actively searching them out, for reasons unknown.

Their conversation paused, as they both looked toward the door of the library, watching as tiny fingers reached out to grab at the edge of the door, pulling it open further, until Jack’s head peeked through.

The poor boy’s face was covered with tears, and he was still sniffling softly as he looked at them, barely restrained fear and longing in his eyes.

With a quick glance to Lucifer, Gabriel untangled himself from the many blankets, before walking over to kneel next to Jack. “What’s the matter buddy? What’s got you in such a panic?” he asked, keeping his voice soft. It wouldn’t do to scare the poor kid even more as he was trying to comfort him.

Jack just stared at him for a moment though, before his tears began to fall once more, and he threw himself at Gabriel, hiding his head in the archangel’s shoulder. With a sigh, Gabriel pulled Jack into his arms, carefully carrying him back to where Lucifer and Sam were. “Aww, it’s alright Jack, no need to be so scared anymore. You’re safe now, I promise.”

“No!” Jack sobbed, voice muffled by Gabriel’s shirt. “Not okay! Not safe!”

Sharing a concerned look with Lucifer, Gabriel changed his path, walking around the library instead of just laying back down as he had planned. Clearly Jack needed some time to work through things. “What’s not okay? Last I checked, you were just fine. A little smaller than usual, but that doesn’t mean that nothing’s alright anymore.”

But Jack offered no answers, as he was too busy crying. It was heartbreaking, but strangely comforting to see at the same time. For so long, they had hoped that Jack would act more like the child he was, and not the adult that he had been forced to be. But now, as he was very much a child now, and not by his choice, it only served to prove right the saying used by so many humans.

Be careful what you wish for, because you just may receive it.

After several minutes of carrying Jack as he walked around the library, Gabriel paused. Jack had mentioned at one point that he had been directly involved with killing the Michael of the other world. That would be more than enough to cause nightmares in anyone, regardless of who they were, or what they had experienced in the past. For a child to see such a thing, especially a child as young as Jack, it was almost unheard of.

With a soft sigh, he began walking once more, carefully rubbing Jack’s back, trying to avoid the area where his wings may one day physically manifest, as it would be too sensitive for prolonged touching.

As Jack began to slowly calm, Gabriel bent his head, whispering into the boy’s ear, using the Enochian that he would learn in time. “Nothing will harm you here, I swear it. Not an angel, not a demon, and certainly not a creature native to this earth, or any other. You are guarded by not one, but two archangels, who love you more than you could ever imagine. There is nothing in this world, nor any other, that could bring harm to you this night.”

Sensing that Jack was quickly losing the fight to stay awake any longer, Gabriel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, before walking back to where Lucifer was lying.

Carefully, the two archangels shifted and maneuvered Sam and Jack so that they could sleep together, held safely in the arms and wings of those who loved them beyond measure. 

* * *

 

Life went on. Jack slowly became accustomed to his smaller form, though that could be largely due to everyone’s insistence on treating him as his age appeared to be, Sam slowly moved forward from the still remaining trauma from how he had been raised, and with help from everyone in the bunker, they all grew to be comfortable once more.

Sam was in the kitchen, scrolling through a random article online about some girl or another who found a sword in a lake, rolling his eyes while smiling softly. The article wasn’t what had his attention though. 

No, what had Sam’s attention was the soft giggling from Jack, along with soft teasing and joking from Gabriel and Lucifer as they worked.

Jack was sitting on top of the counter, playing with scraps of dough and munching on slices of apple, while the archangels worked to set up a pie. “Alright kiddo, do you remember what the next step is?” Lucifer asked, even as he began to roll out the dough.

Jack shook his head, taking another bite from the slice of apple in his hand.

“Really? Honestly Jack, I thought you were paying closer attention!” Gabriel was shaking his head, even as he poked at the child’s tummy, causing him to break into a fit of giggles.

With a laugh, Sam stood from the chair, walking over and picking up Jack while pretending to glare at Gabriel. “What have I told you about poking people who are younger than  you Gabriel?” He asked, sighing dramatically, and causing Jack to giggle even more.

Catching onto the game quickly, Gabriel looked not even the slightest bit sorry, placing a hand over his heart in mock anguish. “But Sam! He has the best tummy for poking!”

Sharing a secret smile with his mate, Sam shook his head. “No poking the nephil tummy.” Jack started to relax then, leaning into Sam’s embrace. 

Little did he know it would be his downfall.

With a growing grin, Sam continued. “We don’t poke tummies Gabriel, we tickle them!” He started to attack the small tummy, holding onto Jack tightly enough that no matter how he squirmed, he wouldn’t be able to get away.

* * *

 

“Do you think maybe… maybe Michael can be redeemed?” Lucifer’s voice was quiet, almost as though he were second guessing his decision to bring it up at all.

Sam blinked sleepily, opening his eyes so he could look at his mates. Gabriel was on the other side of Lucifer and moved so they could all see each other. They had been lying on their bed, and it was likely the middle of the night. Sam wasn’t sure early why Lucifer was bringing this up now, but he wasn’t going to question it because they were still working on getting Lucifer to open up more.

“You said Dean was like Michael in all the ways that mattered, right?” Sam asked. “Dean got over his pride, maybe Michael can too?”

“Being in the cage won’t have been kind to Michael,” Gabriel said. “But maybe he can recover and learn from this.”

Lucifer was quiet, his voice shaking as he began to talk again. “What if it’s too late though? What if Michael really does hate me, and if I try to face him again, he just tries to kill me again?”

Sam sighed softly, shifting to lay his head on Lucifer’s chest. He was too tired to try and deal with this, but it was likely that if they didn’t deal with it now, it wouldn’t come up again for a long time, if ever. “You’re willing to forgive him, right? Then even if he doesn’t want to give you that second chance, it’s gonna be ok in the end, I promise.” He was mumbling, and he knew it, but he also knew that Lucifer would understand him.

“I just wish that there was some way to know that it was ok, that Father wanted this, and that I’m not about to fuck everything up.”

There was a sigh from Gabriel, and Sam felt him shifting to embrace Lucifer as well. “I haven’t seen Father in a long time, not since he ensured that Sam was going to be alright through all his problems in the beginning.” There was silence for a moment, and Sam was fighting to stay awake by the time that Gabriel continued. “Honestly, I don’t care what Father thinks anymore. He’s the one that started this mess, and he didn’t clean it up when it was done. We did. If this is something that we need to do, then we need to do it, regardless of what Father thinks.”

Lucifer began to shake then, turning to fully embrace Sam, and burying his face in the sleeping human’s hair. The last time he had dared to do anything without Father’s permission, he had been locked away, thrown into a Cage from which there had been no escape. He didn’t exactly want to do everything that his Father said, especially when His orders had caused his brother to lock him away, but he still didn’t want to do anything that could potentially anger Him.

But even so, he still wanted to try.

“Do you truly think that we can do it? That Michael can be saved?”

Gabriel didn’t speak, but instead shifted his grip on his brother, spreading his wings across both Sam and Lucifer. No words needed to be spoken anymore. This was something that Lucifer needed to sort out for himself, and he needed to decide if this was something he truly wished to do. But until he had decided, both him and Sam would be there to support him, and help him figure out what he needed to.

* * *

 

Crowley didn’t escort anyone to limbo this time. Sam knew the path by heart, and Lucifer and Gabriel were both at his heels. The archangels had been disinclined to allow their human mate to join them on the perilous journey that could well be in vain, but he’d asked them to trust him. He wasn’t Dean, and he wasn’t Michael’s true vessel, but he had learned a lot in the last few years. If Michael was really the good brother everyone was inclined to believe he had once been, then the fact that Dean had successful learned the correct important lessons boded well for Michael himself. 

Lucifer had said that he’d worried that while Dean hadn’t done those things yet, that he had the potential to become what Michael had. But he hadn’t, the fact that he had written Sam a very well written and thought out letter proved that. Could that work in the reverse, too? Michael had spent years alone in the cage himself, and while not as many as Lucifer, perhaps the time out had been good for him.

Sam wondered, genuinely wondered, about the possible difference between the Michael in apocalypse world and the Michael that had shared the cage with his Lucifer. He would never remember all the events of his time in the cage, and for good reason, but Lucifer had promised that neither he, nor Michael, had actively sought to hurt him while he’d been there.

They'd been so convinced that Lucifer would destroy mankind. But in the other universe, Michael had done the same thing once he'd killed his brother.

Sam muttered the incantation and slipped into the cage. Lucifer and Gabriel had warded him so that the cage wouldn’t be able to cause any more injuries to his soul. They hadn’t been happy about it, but he’d reminded them that he’d grown up with Dean, and maybe he could reach Michael where they had failed.

The first thing Sam noticed as he slipped inside was the singing. “ I'm called Little Buttercup, dear Little Buttercup, though I could never tell why. But still I’m called Buttercup, poor little Buttercup, Sweet little Buttercup, I!”

Sam rolled his eyes. He wasn’t familiar with whatever broadway show Michael was singing, but he was  _ not  _ impressed. Hadn’t Lucifer or Chuck  _ said  _ Michael had been singing show tunes when Lucifer had been retrieved to help fight Amara? Still, how was he supposed to persuade Michael of rejoining society if he wouldn’t shut up and listen? Glaring at the archangel, he said, “For the love of God, Michael! Shut up!”

Michael was so surprised by the sharp voice that he stopped singing to blink owlishly at the new arrival. He  _ knew  _ who Sam was, but at the same time, he’d been alone in the cage for a little more than three human years, which amounted to almost half of one millenia and he’d never expected that to change. “Sam? What are you doing here?”

Sam smiled. “Gabriel and Lucifer were thinking it was time to let you out, under the condition that you’re not just going to go destroy humanity. Or them.”

“Father said…”

“Stop. Stop right there. Look, given that Chuck’s the one that pulled Lucifer out the cage to help deal with Amara, I’m pretty sure their relationship, while far from perfect, is not so bad as it was when he said something in a moment of anger eons ago.”

“But what about Paradise?”

“The only afterlife for angels is the Empty, and I’m pretty sure it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, from Gabe and Lucifer’s adventure to retrieve some of the other angels before Heaven’s lights went out.”

“Heaven’s lights almost went out?”

“Castiel could count the number of living angels on his fingers,” Sam answered. “I guess they power Heaven? Why not just use human souls?”

“Human souls can’t power heaven.” Michael blinked .”Where would you get that idea?”

Sam shrugged. “Are you ready to get out of here? God doesn’t want you to kill your brother, and even if he did, which he doesn’t, you really need to learn to make your own choices and decisions because  _ you are a person and you matter. _ ”

“What do you know about what my father wants? You’re just a mortal! Perhaps a favored mortal, but still mortal nonetheless.”

Sam sighed and lowered himself onto the floor. “You matter, Michael. You’re not simply just a warrior, or commander of the host, you’re an individual with needs and wants and goals. You might try to hide that behind and underneath your desire to do what you think your Dad wants, but I think since he’s realized he’s not perfect,  _ you  _ need to realize that too.”

“But he’s all powerful and all knowing! He must be perfect, and he said I had to fight Lucifer!”

The former hunter shook his head. “Michael!” he hissed. “The first thing Lucifer remembers is you  _ holding _ him. You’re his big brother and you were supposed to  _ protect  _ him, because that’s what big brothers are for. And when it mattered the most, you failed to protect! You love him, don’t you? You told Dean that you loved your brother.”

“I do love him! But Father…”

“God was wrong! And God himself let Lucifer out of the cage while leaving you here! What does that tell you?”

“That I failed and God’s punishing me?”

Sam rolled his eyes. What was he supposed to do if the archangel was so dense as to be unable to see what was right in front of him? “At the very least, God isn’t mad at Lucifer. Which means he’d probably be even more mad at you if you did try to hurt him.”

“If killing Lucifer isn’t my purpose, what is?”

“Fighting shouldn’t be the extent of your life, yeah? So maybe you could do other things you enjoy? You were singing songs from broadway when I arrived, you could see more shows? Your brothers said something about Raphael enjoying quiet time reading and doing scholarly things, and Gabriel loves watching movies. Surely there’s something you’d want to do unrelated to battle?”

“Like playing chess? Raph seemed to enjoy it, but we only played once. That was a long time ago.”

Sam had never seen much of a point to the game, but he wasn't surprised by Michael’s enjoyment of it. And it seemed that the archangel had at least caught the point of his suggestions. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Okay, Samuel Winchester. Under the condition that Lucifer does not attack me, I will not attack him with the intention of lethal combat. Does this seem fair to you?”

“About the best I was hoping for,” Sam agreed. “Your siblings love you, and miss you. They want you to come home and not to fight with them.” He considered, and remembered Jack. Did he know Michael’s position on nephilim? “Also, Lucifer has a son, and he’s ours, and we’ll defend him even from you so you’d better get used to that.”

Michael frowned, but he didn’t appear outraged. “And Father has left him alone?”

“Yeah. He’s a good kid. Life’s been harder on him than it should have been, but he’s doing better. We’re all doing better.”

“Then I too would like to return.”

Sam performed the incantation to leave the cage, and bade Michael to follow him, which the archangel did. The last year had been a time of healing, not just of himself, but also for the rest of the people he considered family. “Let’s go home,” he said, embracing Gabriel while Lucifer greeted Michael somewhat tentatively.

Gabriel kissed the top of his human mate’s head. “I love you, Sam,” he said quietly. “Thank you for this.”


End file.
